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BLIND     MUSICIAN 


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VLADIMIR    KCROLENKO 

TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    RUSSIAN 

By   aline    DELANO 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION    BY  GEORGE   KENNAN 
Illustrations  by  Edmund  H.  Garrett 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 

1891 


Copyright^  1890 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Companv 


THIRD    EDITION 


University  Press 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge 


In  this  sketch,  called  by  Korolenko  "  a 
psychological  study,"  the  author  has  at- 
tempted to  analyze  the  inner  life  of  the 
blind.  He  has  undertaken  to  lay  before 
the  reader  not  only  the  psychological 
processes  in  the  mind  of  the  blind, 
but  their  suffering  from  the  lack  of  sight 
as  well,  uncomplicated  by  any  untoward 
circumstances. 

To  accomplish  this  he  has  placed  his 
hero  in  most  favorable,  nay,  almost  excep- 
tional conditions.  The  subjects  for  this 
study  are  a  blind  girl,  whom  the  author 
had  known  as  a  child  ;  a  boy,  a  pupil  of 
his,   who   was   gradually  losing   his   sight; 


IV  PRE  FA  СЕ. 


and  a  professional  musician,  blind  from 
his  birth,  intellectually  giited,  scholarly, 
and  refined. 

Upon  the  completion  of  my  translation,  I 
submitted  it  to  Mr.  M.  Anagnos,  of  the  Per- 
kins Institution  for  the  blind,  and  received 
from  him  the  following  note,  which  he  has 
kindly  permitted  me  to  make  public :  — 

My  Dear  Madam,  —  I  have  read,  with  due 
care  and  deep  interest,  your  translation  of 
Vladimir  Korolenko's  book,  entitled  "The  Blind 
Musician,"  and  I  take  great  pleasure  in  being 
able  to  say  that  the  story,  although  very  simple 
both  in  form  and  substance,  is  conceived  and 
elaborated  with  a  masterly  skill.  It  is  ingenious 
in  construction,  artistic  in  execution,  and  full  of 
imaginative  vigor.  The  author  shows  a  keen 
appreciation  of  what  is  charming  and  beautiful 
in  Nature  and  a  fine  power  of  analysis.  His 
ideas  on  the  intellectual  development  and  phy- 
sical training  of  the  blind  are  correct,  and  cannot 


PRE  FA  СЕ. 


but  deepen  the  interest  of  the  reader  in  the 
various  phases  of  the  story.  That  some  of  his 
psychological  observations,  derived  from  the 
study  of  a  limited  number  of  cases,  represent 
individual  characteristics  or  idiosyncrasies  which 
cannot  be  applied  to  all  persons  bereft  of  the 
visual  sense,  in  no  wise  detracts  from  the  value 
of  the  work.  .  .  . 

Sincerely  yours, 

M.  Anagnos. 

May  this  simple  story,  written  from 
the  heart,  reach  the  heart  of  him  who 
reads  it ! 

Aline  Delano. 


Boston,  Mass. 
June,  1890. 


PAGE 

Introduction »    .    .  ix 

I.    The  Blind  Infant. —  The  Family    .    .  3 
II.     The    Sources    of   Musical   Feeling.  — 

The  Blind  Boy  and  the  Melody.     .  43 

III.  The  First  Friendship 9' 

IV.  Blindness.  —  Vague  Questions      ...  125 
V.     Love 45 

VI.     The    Crisis.  —  An     Attempt     at    Syn- 
thesis   •  193 

VTI.     Intuition 227 

Epilogue    ..,«....<         .    .  239 


It  affords  me  great  pleasure  to  link  my 
name  with  that  of  Vladimir  Korolenko 
by  writing  a  few  words  in  the  form  of 
an  introduction  to  the  translation  of  that 
gifted  young  author's  ''  Blind  Musician," 
which  is  now  to  appear  for  the  first  time 
in  English. 

I  knew  Korolenko  by  reputation  and 
by  his  work  long  before  I  made  his  per- 
sonal acquaintance.  While  engaged  in 
making  an  investigation  of  the  exile  sys- 
tem in  Siberia,  I  met  many  of  his  banished 
friends  and  comrades;  and  my  attention 
was  first  called  by  them  to  the  series  of 
graphic  sketches  of  Siberian  life  and  ex- 
perience   that   he   was    then  publishing  in 


INTRODUCTION. 


''Russian  Thought,"  ''The  Northern  Mes- 
senger," the  "  Annals  of  the  Fatherland," 
and  other  Russian  periodicals.  I  read 
them  carefully,  and  formed  from  them  at 
once  a  high  opinion  of  the  author's  char- 
acter and    talent. 

Upon  my  return  from  Siberia  in  the 
summer  of  1886,  I  stopped  for  a  few 
days  in  the  old  Tartar  town  of  Nizhni 
Novgorod  on  the  Volga  (where  Mr. 
Korolenko  was  then  living),  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  calling  upon  a  writer 
whose  life  and  whose  work  had  so  deeply 
interested  me.  I  need  not  describe  the 
impression  that  he  made  upon  me  fur- 
ther than  to  say,  that  a  feeling  of  warm 
personal  regard  and  esteem  for  the  man 
was  soon  added  to  the  admiration  that  I 
already  had  for  him  as  a  literary  artist, 
Mr.  Korolenko  seems  to  me  to  represent 
the  most  liberal,  the  most  progressive,  and 


IN  TROD  и  С  TION.  XI 

the  most  sincerely  patriotic  type  of  young 
Russian  manhood.  The  influence  that  he 
has  exerted,  personally  and  by  his  writ- 
ings, has  always  been  on  the  side  of  lib- 
erty, humanity,  and  justice;  and  there 
could  hardly  be  a  more  significant  com- 
mentary upon  the  existing  form  of  gov- 
ernment in  Russia  than  the  fact  that  this 
talented  author,  before  he  was  thirty-five 
years  of  age,  had  been  four  times  ban- 
ished from  his  home  to  remote  parts  of 
the  empire,  without  even  the  form  of  a 
judicial  trial,  and  had  twice  been  sent  as 
a  political  exile  to  Siberia.  If  he  had 
been  an  active  revolutionist  like  Lopatin, 
or  even  a  writer  upon  prohibited  social 
and  political  subjects  like  Chernishefski, 
his  banishment  to  Siberia  would  have 
been  more  comprehensible ;  but  he  was 
neither  one  nor  the  other.  He  was  re- 
moved  to   the    province  of  Vologda,  and 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 


afterward  to  the  province  of  Viatka,  merely 
because  the  poHce  regarded  him  as  a  "  ne- 
blagonadezhni "  (politically  untrustworthy 
person),  and  then  he  was  exiled  to  Siberia 
as  a  result  of  a  stupid  police  blunder. 
When,  after  years  of  hardship  and  priva- 
tion, he  finally  returned  to  his  home,  he 
was  called  upon  to  take  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance to  Alexander  III.,  and  to  swear 
that  he  would  betray  every  one  of  his 
friends  or  acquaintances  whom  he  knew 
to  be  engaged  in  revolutionary  or  anti- 
Government  work.  No  conscientious  and 
self-respecting  man  could  take  such  an 
oath,  and  Mr.  Korolenko,  of  course,  de- 
clined to  do  it.  He  was  thereupon  exiled 
by  administrative  process  to  the  East- 
Siberian  province  of  Yakutsk,  where  in 
a  wretched  Yakut  "  ooloos  "  he  lived  for 
three  years,  and  where  he  made  some  of 
the  character  studies,  such   as  *'  The  Va- 


INTRODUCTION.  XI II 


grant  "  and  ''  Makar's  Dream,"  that  first 
attracted  to  him  the  attention  of  the  Rus- 
sian reading  pubHc. 

Mr.  Korolenko  has  not  thus  far  pub- 
lished anything  like  a  long  and  carefully 
worked  out  novel  of  Russian  life ;  but  tlie 
fault  is  not  his  own.  He  wrote  such  a 
novel  under  the  title  "Prokhor  and  the 
Students"  in  1886  or  1887,  and  the  first 
chapters  of  it  were  printed  in  the  well- 
known  magazine  *'  Russian  Thought  "  in 
1 888.  As  soon  however  as  the  plot  be- 
gan to  develop  and  the  nature  and  ten- 
dency of  the  story  became  apparent,  the 
censor  interposed  with  his  veto ;  and  the 
publishers  of  the  magazine  were  com- 
pelled to  announce  to  its  readers  that 
''  on  account  of  circumstances  beyond 
their  control"  the  remainder  of  the  novel 
could  not  be  printed. 

Mr.  Korolenko's  short  stories,  sketches, 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 


and  studies  of  character  show  so  much 
talent,  originaHty,  and  artistic  skill  that 
if  he  were  untrammelled,  and  could  work 
out  his  ideas  and  conceptions  in  his  own 
way,  there  would  be  every  reason  to  pre- 
dict for  him  a  useful  and  brilliant  literary 
career.  Unfortunately,  however,  all  Rus- 
sian authors  are  forced  to  work  within  the 
bounds  set  for  them  by  an  arbitrary  and 
often  stupid  censorship ;  and  the  most 
promising  career  may  be  utterly  ruined 
by  the  caprice  of  an  ignorant  official,  or 
by  a  sentence  of  exile  for  life  or  for  a 
long  term  of  years  to  the  sub-arctic  pro- 
vince of  Yakutsk.  1  can  recall  the  names 
of  a  dozen  young  Russian  authors,  jour- 
nalists, or  poets,  among  them  Koro- 
lenko,  Machtet,  Lessevitch,  Volkhofski, 
Petropavlovski,  Chudnofski,  Klemens, 
Ivanchhi-Pisaref,  and  Staniukovitch,  who 
are    in  Siberia  now,  or  have  spent  there 


IN  TROD  и  С  TION. 


XV 


some   of  the    best   years    of   their   young 
manhood. 

One  can  only  wonder  at  and  admire  the 
courage,  the  energy,  and  the  persistence 
of  men  hke  Korolenko,  who,  ahhough 
gagged  by  the  censor,  imprisoned,  and 
banished  to  the  remotest  parts  of  Siberia, 
work  on  with  heroic  patience,  and  finally 
make  their  names  known  and  respected, 
not  only  in  their  native  country  but 
throughout    the    civilized    world. 

GEORGE    KENNAN. 


''^■^kk 


I. 

1ШВ-ТМ|ДНТ 


.ЛМШВГ  i 


Pt^T^eJmily. 


At  the  hour  of  midnight,  in 
a  wealthy  family  living  in  the  southwestern  part 
of  Russia,  a  child  was  born.  As  the  first  faint, 
pitiful  cry  of  the  baby  echoed  through  the 
room,  the  young  mother,  who  had  been  lying 
with  closed  eyes,  unconscious  to  all  appear- 
ances, stirred  uneasily  in  the  bed.  She  mur- 
mured a  word  or  two  in  a  low  whispering  tone, 
while  her  pallid  face,  with  its  sweet  and  almost 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


childlike  features,  was  disfigured  by  an  expres- 
sion of  impatience,  — .  like  that  of  a  spoiled 
child,  who  resents  the  unwonted  suffering  as 
something  new  to  her  experience.  The  nurse 
bent  low  to  catch  the  inarticulate  sounds  that 
fell  from  her  whispering  lips. 

"Why,  why  does  he — ?"  murmured  the 
invalid  in  the  same   impatient  whisper. 

The  nurse  did  not  understand  the  question. 
Again  the  child  cried  out,  and  again  the  same 
shadow  of  sharp  pain  darkened  the  face  of  the 
mother,  while  large  tears  rolled  down  from  her 
closed  eyes. 

"  Why,  why,"  she  repeated  in  a  whisper. 

At  last  the  meaning  of  her  question  seemed 
to  occur  to  the  nurse,  who  answered  quite 
calmly,  — 

"Oh,  you  mean  why  does  the  child  cry? 
Babies  always  do.  You  must  not  agitate  your- 
self." 

But  the  mother  was  not  to  be  pacified.  She 
started    every    time    the    little    one    cried,    and 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


kept  repeating  in  tones  of  angry  impatience, 
"  Why  —  why  —  so  dreadfully  ?  " 

To  the  nurse  there  seemed  nothing  unusual 
in  the  cries  of  the  infant ;  and  supposing  the 
mother  to  be  either  unconscious  or  simply 
delirious,  she  left  her,  and  busied  herself  with 
the  child. 

The  young  mother  said  no  more,  but  from 
time  to  time  an  anguish  too  deep  for  ex- 
pression brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes.  They 
forced  their  way  through  the  thick  black  eye- 
lashes, and  slowly  rolled  down  her  pale  mar- 
ble-like cheeks.  Perchance  her  mother's  heart 
was  torn  by  a  presentiment  of  some  dark,  abid- 
ing misery  hanging  like  a  heavy  cloud  over  the 
infant's  crib,  and  destined  to  accompany  him 
through  life  even  unto  the  grave.  These  signs 
of  emotion,  on  the  other  hand,  were  very  likely 
nothing  more  than  the  wanderings  of  delirium. 
But  however  this  may  have  been,  the  child 
was  indeed  born  blind. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


11. 

At  first  no  one  perceived  it.  The  boy  had 
that  vague  way  of  looking  at  objects  common  to 
all  very  young  infants.  As  the  days  went  by, 
the  life  of  the  new-born  man  could  soon  be 
reckoned  by  weeks.  His  eyes  grew  clearer; 
the  thin  film  that  had  overspread  them  disap- 
peared, and  the  pupil  became  defined.  But  the 
child  was  never  seen  to  turn  his  head,  to  follow 
the  bright  sunbeams  that  found  their  way  into 
the  room ;  nor  did  the  merry  chirping  of  the 
birds,  nor  the  rustling  of  the  branches  of  the 
green  beech-trees  in  the  shaded  garden  beneath 
the  windows,  attract  his  notice. 

The  mother,  who  had  now  recovered,  was 
the  first  one  to  mark  with  anxiety  the  strange 
immobility  of  the  child's  expression,  so  invaria- 
bly calm  and  serious.  With  pitiful  eyes,  like  a 
frightened  dove,  she  would  question  those  about 
her :  "  Tell  me  what  makes  him  look  so  un- 
natural? " 


THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


"What  do  you  mean?"  strangers  would 
reply  in  tones  of  indifference ;  "  he  looks  like 
all  other  children  of  his  age." 

^^•  But  watch  him  !  See  how  oddly  he  fumbles 
with  his  hands  !  " 

"  The  child  cannot  yet  regulate  the  move- 
ments of  his  hands  by  the  impressions  which  his 
eyes  receive,"  repHed  the  doctor. 

"  Why  does  he  look  constantly  in  one  direc- 
tion?    He  is —  blind  !  " 

As  the  dread  suspicion  found  utterance  in 
words,  not  one  of  them  could  calm  the  mother's 
agitation.  The  doctor  took  the  child  in  his 
arms,  and  turning  him  suddenly  toward  the 
light,  looked  into  his  eyes.  An  expression  of 
alarm  passed  over  his  countenance,  and  after  a 
few  vague  remarks  he  took  his  leave,  promising 
to  return  in  two  days.  The  mother  moaned 
and  fluttered  like  a  wounded  bird,  pressing  the 
child  to  her  bosom,  while  the  boy's  eyes  kept 
ever  the  same  steadfast  and  rigid  stare. 

The  doctor  did  return  in  two  days,  bringing 


8  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

with  him  an  ophthahiioscope.  After  Hghting  a 
candle,  he  proceeded  to  test  the  eyes  of  the 
infant  by  flashing  it  suddenly  before  them  and 
as  suddenly  withdrawing  it ;  finally,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  distress,  he  said,  — 

^^  It  grieves  me  deeply,  Madam,  but  I  am 
forced  to  admit  that  you  have  divined  the  truth. 
The  boy  indeed  is  blind,  —  irremediably  blind." 

Sadly,  but  without  agitation,  the  mother  list- 
ened to  this  announcement.  ''  I  knew  it  long 
ago,"  she  softly  murmured. 


III. 

The  family  into  which  this  blind  child  was 
born  was  a  small  one.  Its  other  two  members 
were  the  father  and  "Uncle  Maxim,"  so  called 
not  only  by  his  own  people,  but  also  by  friends 
and  acquaintances.  The  father  was  a  fair  ex- 
ample of  the  landowners  in  the  southwestern 
district.  He  was  good-natured,  even  kindly, 
probably  an  excellent  overseer  of  the  workmen. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


fond  of  building  and  making  alterations  in  his 
mills.  These  occupations  consumed  all  his 
time ;  hence  his  voice  was  seldom  heard  in  the 
house  except  at  the  regular  hours  for  dinner, 
lunch,  or  other  events  of  a  similar  character. 
At  such  times  he  never  failed  to  ask  his  custo- 
mary question  of  his  wife,  "  Are  you  feeling  well, 
my  dove?  "  After  which  he  would  seat  himself 
at  the  table,  and  make  no  further  remarks  save 
perhaps  an  occasional  observation  on  the  sub- 
ject of  cylinders  or  pinions.  It  might  be  ex- 
pected that  his  quiet  and  simple  existence  would 
find  a  pale  reflection  in  the  nature  of  his  son. 

Uncle  Maxim  was  of  quite  a  different  tem- 
perament. Ten  years  previous  to  the  events  we 
are  about  to  describe,  he  had  been  famed  for 
his  quarrelsome  temper,  not  only  in  the  vicinity 
of  his  own  estate,  but  even  in  Kiev  and  at  the 
Contracts. •^  No  one  could  understand  the  exis- 
tence of  such  a  brother  in  a  family  so  respectable 

1  Л  local  name  for  the  formerly  famous  fairs  in 
Kiev. 


I  о  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

as  that  of  Pani  ^  Popelska,  nee  Yatzenko.  Ami- 
cable relations  with  such  a  man  were  out  of  the 
question,  for  it  was  impossible  to  please  him. 
He  insolently  repelled  the  advances  of  the  Pans,^ 
and  overlooked  an  amount  of  wilfulness  and  im- 
pertinence on  the  part  of  the  peasants,  which 
would  have  been  punished  with  blows  by  even 
the  mildest  among  the  nobility.  Finally,  to  the 
great  joy  of  all  respectable  persons,  Uncle  Maxim 
for  reasons  best  known  to  himself  became  very 
much  displeased  with  the  Austrians,  and  departed 
for  Italy.  There  he  joined  Garibaldi,  a  heathen 
soldier,  who  like  himself  delighted  in  fighting, 
—  and  who,  as  it  was  rumored  among  the  Pan- 
landlords,  was  in  league  with  the  devil,  and 
showed  no  reverence  for  the  Pope.  By  such 
actions  Maxim  of  course  imperilled  forever  his 
restless,  heretical  soul ;  but  on  the  occasion  of 
the    Contracts   fewer  scandals  took  place,  and 

1  "Lady,"  "madam,"  —  a  word  used  in  Poland  and 
in  the  southwest  of  Russia. — Tr. 

2  "Gentlemen."  — Tr. 


THE    BLIND   MUSICIAN.  II 

many  an  excellent  mother  felt  more  at  ease  con- 
cerning the  welfare  of  her  sons. 

The  Austrians,  on  their  part,  were  doubtless 
angry  with  Uncle  Maxim.  Now  and  then  his 
name  appeared  in  the  "Courier,"  —  a  favorite 
old  paper  of  the  Pan-landlords,  —  united  with 
those  of  Garibaldi's  most  daring  comrades ; 
and  one  day  the  Pans  read  in  the  same  ''  Cour- 
ier "  that  Uncle  Maxim  had  fallen  with  his  horse 
on  the  battle-field.  The  enraged  Austrians,  who 
had  long  been  waiting  for  a  chance  to  attack 
this  desperate  Volynian,^  who  in  the  opinion  of 
his  countrymen  was  Garibaldi's  mainstay  and 
support,  chopped  him  in  pieces  like  cabbage. 
"  Maxim's  was  a  sad  end,"  said  the  Pans,  and 
ascribed  it  to  the  immediate  interposition  of 
Saint  Peter  in  behalf  of  his  representative  on 
earth.  Maxim  was  reckoned  among  the  dead. 
Subsequently,  however,  it  became  known  that  the 
Austrian  sabres  had  no  power  to  expel  Maxim's 
obstinate  spirit,  and  that  it  still  dwelt  in  his  con- 

1  Volynia,  a  province  of  Russia. 


12  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

siderably  damaged  body.  The  GaribaldianSj 
rescuing  their  worthy  comrade  from  the  fray, 
had  carried  him  to  some  hospital,  and,  lo  !  after 
a  few  years  Maxim  unexpectedly  appeared  in  his 
sister's  house,  where  he  ever  after  remained. 

But  Maxim  could  fight  no  more  duels.  He 
had  lost  his  right  foot,  and  was  obliged  to  use  a 
crutch,  while  his  left  leg  was  so  injured  as  to  re- 
quire him  to  use  also  a  cane.  On  the  whole  he 
had  lost  much  of  his  former  excitabihty,  and  it 
was  only  occasionally  that  his  sharp  tongue  did 
duty  for  his  sword.  He  ceased  to  visit  the  Con- 
tracts, seldom  appeared  in  society,  and  spent 
most  of  his  time  in  the  library  reading ;  but  in 
regard  to  the  contents  of  the  books,  save  for  the 
a  priori  supposition  that  they  must  be  atheistic, 
no  one  had  the  faintest  idea.  He  also  wrote 
from  time  to  time  \  but  as  his  compositions  never 
appeared  in  the  "Courier,"  they  were  supposed 
to  be  quite  insignificant. 

About  the  time  when  the  little  new  being 
entered  upon  its  career  in  the  country  house,  one 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  13 

might  have  noticed  streaks  of  silver  gray  in 
Uncle  Maxim's  closely  cropped  hair.  From 
the  constant  use  of  crutch  and  cane  he  had  grown 
high  shouldered,  which  gave  to  his  figure  a  cer- 
tain square  effect.  His  peculiar  aspect,  his 
knitted  brows,  the  clatter  of  his  crutch  and  cane, 
and  the  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  in  which  he 
•  was  constantly  enveloped,  since  he  never  took 
the  pipe  from  his  mouth,  —  all  these  things  in- 
timidated strangers,  and  only  those  who  lived 
with  him  knew  that  his  crippled  body  held  a 
warm  and  kind  heart,  and  that  his  large  square 
head  covered  with  thick  bristling  hair  was  the 
seat  of  constant  mental  activity. 

But  those  who  were  nearer  to  him  had  but  a 
vague  notion  of  the  problems  that  perplexed  and 
absorbed  Uncle  Maxim's  mind  at  this  time. 
They  only  knew  that  he  would  sit  motionless  for 
hours  at  a  time,  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  blue 
smoke,  with  knitted  eye- brows  and  a  far-away 
look  in  his  eyes.  Meanwhile  this  crippled 
warrior  was  pondering  upon  the  battle  of  life. 


14  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

and  feeling  that  there  was  no  room  in  it  for  in- 
valids. He  pictured  himself  as  having  left  the 
ranks  forever,  and  he  felt  like  a  man  encumber- 
ing the  hospital  ambulance.  He  was  like  a 
knight,  unseated  and  overthrown  in  the  conflict 
of  life.  Did  it  not  show  a  lack  of  courage  to 
crawl  in  the  dust  like  a  crushed  worm  ?  Would 
it  not  be  a  coward's  part  to  grasp  the  stirrup  of 
the  conqueror,  and  beg  for  the  sorry  remnant 
of  his  own  life? 

While  Uncle  Maxim  was  calmly  considering 
this  vital  question  with  all  its  pros  and  cons,  a 
new  being  appeared  before  his  eyes,  whose  fate 
it  was  to  enter  life  an  invalid  from  his  very  birth. 
At  first  Maxim  paid  but  little  heed  to  the  blind 
child,  but  as  time  went  on,  the  singular  likeness 
between  the  boy's  fate  and  his  own  interested 
him.  "  Hm  !  Hm  !  "  he  thoughtfully  muttered 
to  himself  as  he  looked  at  the  child  from  the 
corner  of  his  eyes,  "  this  chap  is  also  an  invalid. 
If  we  two  could  be  put  together,  one  useful  man 
might  be  made  of  us."  And  after  that  he  gazed 
at  the  child  more  and  more  frequently. 


THE    BLIND    MUSICIAN.  1 5 

IV. 

The  child  was  bom  blind.  Who  was  to  blame 
for  this  misfortune?  No  one.  There  was  no 
slightest  shade  of  the  "  evil  eye  ; "  the  very  cause 
of  the  misfortune  itself  was  hidden  somewhere 
in  the  depths  of  the  mysterious  and  complex  pro- 
cesses of  life.  Anguish  pierced  the  mother's  heart 
as  she  gazed  on  her  blind  boy.  She  suffered  not 
alone  as  a  mother,  in  her  sympathy  with  her  son's 
affliction,  together  with  a  sad  prescience  of  the 
painful  future  awaiting  her  child ;  but  added  to 
these  feelings  there  dwelt  within  the  depths  of 
the  young  mother's  heart  a  consciousness  that  the 
cause  of  this  misfortune  may  have  been  latent, 
as  a  dreaded  possibility,  in  those  who  gave  him 
life.  This  in  itself  sufficed  to  make  the  little 
creature,  with  his  beautiful  sightless  eyes,  the 
central  figure  of  the  family  and  its  unconscious 
despot.  Every  member  of  the  household  strove 
to  gratify  his  lightest  fancy. 

What  would  in  time  have  become  of  this  boy, 


1 6  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

unconsciously  predisposed  as  he  was  to  resent 
his  misfortune,  and  whose  egotism  was  fostered  by 
all  those  who  surrounded  him,  had  not  a  strange 
fatality  combined  with  the  Austrian  sabres  to 
compel  Uncle  Maxim  to  settle  down  in  the 
country  in  his  sister's  family,  —  no  one  can  tell. 
By  the  presence  of  the  blind  boy  in  the  house, 
the  active  mind  of  the  crippled  soldier  was 
gradually  and  imperceptibly  directed  into  a  new 
channel.  He  would  still  smoke  his  pipe  hour 
after  hour,  but  the  old  expression  of  pain  and 
dejection  had  given  place  to  one  of  interest. 
Yet  the  more  Uncle  Maxim  pondered,  the  more 
he  wrinkled  his  thick  brows,  and  more  and  more 
heavy  grew  the  volumes  of  smoke.  Finally  one 
day  he  made  up  his  mind  to  interfere. 

"That  youngster,"  he  said,  puffing  out  ring 
after  ring  of  smoke,  ''  will  be  much  more  un- 
happy than  I  am.  Far  better  had  he  never  been 
born." 

An  expression  of  acute  suffering  saddened  the 
mother's    face   as  she  gave   her  brother   a   re- 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


17 


proachful  glance.  "  It  is  cruel  to  remind  me 
of  this,  Max,"  she  said  gently,  ''and  to  do  it 
wantonly  !  " 

"  I  am  simply  telHng  you  the  truth,"  replied 
Maxim.  "  I  have  lost  a  hand  and  a  foot,  but  I 
have  eyes.  This  youngster  has  no  eyes,  and  in 
time  will  have  neither  hands  nor  feet  nor  will." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

*'  Pray  understand  me,  Anna,"  said  Maxim  in 
a  gentler  tone, ''  I  would  not  reiterate  these  cruel 
truths  had  I  no  object.  This  boy's  nervous 
organization  is  extremely  sensitive  ;  hence  it  is 
possible  so  to  develop  his  other  faculties  that 
their  acuteness  will  compensate  him,  at  least  to 
a  certain  degree,  for  his  blindness.  But  to  at- 
tain this  he  must  use  his  faculties ;  and  the  use 
of  one's  faculties  must  be  compelled  by  neces- 
sity. An  unwise  solicitude,  that  prevents  him 
from  making  any  effort,  will  ruin  his  chances  for 
living  a  full  life." 

The  mother  was  sensible,  and  therefore  knew 
how  to  control  that  instinctive   impulse  which 


1 8  •      THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

urged  her,    at   every  pitiful  cry  of  the  child,  to 
rush  to  him. 

A  few  months  after  this  conversation  the  boy 
could  creep  about  the  rooms  with  ease  and 
rapidity;  he  listened  intently  to  every  sound, 
and  by  his  sense  of  touch  eagerly  examined 
every  object  that  happened  to  come  within  his 
reach.  He  soon  learned  to  know  his  mother  by 
her  footstep,  by  the  rustling  of  her  dress,  and  by 
certain  other  signs  perceptible  to  him  alone ;  it 
made  no  difference  to  him  whether  there  were 
many  persons  in  the  room  or  not,  or  if  they 
changed  their  positions,  —  he  never  failed  to 
turn  with  unerring  accuracy  toward  the  spot 
where  she  sat.  When  she  lifted  him  in  her 
arms  he  knew  at  once  that  he  was  sitting  in  his 
mother's  lap.  When  others  took  him  up,  he 
would  pass  his  little  hands  rapidly  over  the  face 
of  the  person,  thus  recognizing  almost  at  once 
the  nurse,  Uncle  Maxim,  or  his  father.  But  if  it 
happened  to  be  a  stranger,  then  the  movements 
of  the   tiny   hands   were  more  deliberate ;    the 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  iq 


boy  i^assed  them  carefully  and  attentively  over 
the  unfamiliar  face,  his  features  betraying  his 
intense  interest.  He  seemed  to  be  looking  at 
the  strange  face  with  his  finger-tips. 

By  nature  the  blind  boy  was  a  very  lively  and 
active  child ;  but  as  month  succeeded  month, 
blindness  set  its  impress  on  the  boy's  tempera- 
ment, which  began  to  manifest  its  true  character. 
He  gradually  lost  his  rapidity  of  motion.  He 
would  sit  perfectly  still  for  hours  in  some  remote 
corner,  with  unchanging  expression,  as  if  listen- 
ing. When  at  times  the  various  sounds  that 
usually  distracted  his  attention  ceased,  and  the 
room  became  quiet,  the  child  would  sit  absorbed 
in  thought,  and  upon  his  beautiful  face,  serious 
beyond  his  years,  an  expression  of  bewilderment 
and  surprise  would  appear. 

Uncle  Maxim  was  right.  The  exquisite  or- 
ganization of  the  child  manifested  itself  in  an 
extraordinary  susceptibility  of  the  senses  of  hear- 
ing and  touch,  by  means  of  which  he  verified 
to  a  certain   extent   the  correctness  of  his  im- 


2 о  THE   ВЫУВ   MUSICIAN. 

pressions.  All  who  saw  him  were  amazed  at 
the  wonderful  delicacy  of  his  touch.  Occasion- 
ally it  even  seemed  as  if  he  were  able  to 
distinguish  colors ;  for  when,  as  sometimes  hap- 
pened, bits  of  bright- colored  cloth  fell  into  his 
hands,  his  slender  fingers  would  linger  over 
them,  while  a  look  half  of  perplexity,  half  of 
interest,  would  flash  across  his  face.  As  time 
went  on,  however,  it  grew  more  and  more  evi- 
dent that  his  susceptibility  was  principally  de- 
veloped in  the  sense  of  hearing.  He  quickly 
learned  to  distinguish  the  different  rooms  in  the 
house  by  sound ;  he  recognized  the  steps  of 
the  members  of  the  household,  the  creaking  of 
his  invalid  uncle's  chair,  the  dry  and  measured 
whiz  of  the  thread  in  his  mother's  hands,  or 
the  regular  ticking  of  the  clock.  Sometimes, 
as  he  felt  his  way  along  the  side  of  the  room, 
he  would  hear  a  slight  rustle  inaudible  to  others, 
and  put  out  his  hand  to  catch  a  fly  crawling 
on  the  wall.  When  the  startled  insect  rose  and 
flew   away,    an    expression    of  painful    surprise 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  2  I 


would  come  over  the  face  of  the  bhnd  boy. 
He  could  not  account  for  the  mysterious  disap- 
pearance of  the  fly.  But  the  next  moment,  in 
spite  of  his  perplexity,  his  face  assumed  an 
expression  of  intelligent  interest ;  he  turned  his 
head  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  fly,  —  his 
acute  sense  of  hearing  having  caught  in  the  air 
the    scarcely  perceptible  sound  of  the  insect's 


wmgs. 


Of  all  the  glittering,  murmuring,  bustling 
world  without,  the  blind  child  could  form  no 
conception  save  by  its  sounds.  That  peculiar 
expression  characteristic  of  an  intense  concen- 
tration of  the  sense  of  hearing  had  become 
habitual  to  his  face  :  the  lower  jaw  was  a  little 
depressed,  the  brows  contracted,  and  the  head 
inclined  slightly  forward  on  its  slender  neck. 
But  the  beautiful  eyes,  with  their  unchanging 
gaze,  imparted  to  the  face  of  the  blind  child  a 
stern  and  at  the  same  time  a  touching  aspect. 


22  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

V. 

The  second  winter  of  the  boy's  Ufe  was  draw- 
ing to  a  close.  The  snow  outside  had  begun  to 
thaw,  and  the  streamlets  to  sing  their  spring 
songs.  At  the  same  time  the  boy's  health 
changed  for  the  better.  He  had  been  rather 
delicate  during  the  winter,  and  had  in  conse- 
quence been  kept  in  the  house,  and  never 
permitted  to  breathe  the  outdoor  air.  The 
double  windows  were  now  removed,  and  spring 
with  all  the  vigor  of  new  life  burst  into  the 
rooms.  The  cheerful  sun  shone  in  at  the 
glittering  windows ;  the  leafless  branches  of 
the  beech-trees  swayed  to  and  fro  ;  the  distant 
fields  were  black,  save  for  the  white  patches  of 
melting  snow  still  lying  here  and  there,  and  the 
spots  where  the  young  grass  had  begun  to  look 
green.  On  every  side  the  stimulating  influence 
of  the  spring  imparted  new  vigor  and  life. 
One  seemed  to  breathe  more  freely. 

To    the    blind    boy   within   the    room   spring 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  23 

manifested  its  presence  only  by  the  swiftness  of 
its  sounds.  He  could  hear  the  rushing  of  the 
floods  running  a  race,  as  it  were,  leaping  over 
the  stones,  and  sinking  deep  into  the  moistened 
soil ;  the  faint  resonance  of  the  whispering  birch- 
trees  as  their  tossing  branches  beat  against  the 
windows,  and  the  rapid  dripping  of  the  icicles 
that  hung  from  the  roof,  which  since  the  sun 
had  set  them  free  from  the  chill  embrace  of  the 
night  frost  were  hurrying  away,  their  ringing 
footsteps  followed  by  a  thousand  echoes.  All 
these  sounds  made  their  way  into  the  room  like 
a  storm  of  pebble-stones  beating  a  hurried  tat- 
too upon  the  ground.  Above  all  these  har- 
monies of  Nature  could  be  heard  from  time  to 
time  the  calls  of  the  storks  echoing  softly  from 
the  distant  heights,  and  dying  gradually  away  as 
if  melting  in  air. 

This  new  birth  of  Nature  was  reflected  upon 
the  boy's  face  in  the  form  of  distress  and  per- 
plexity. He  would  knit  his  brows,  listen  for  a 
while,  then  suddenly,  as  though  alarmed  by  the 


24  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

mysterious  hurrying  of  the  sounds,  he  would 
stretch  forth  his  arms,  seeking  his  mother,  and 
rushing  to  her  would  nestle  in  her  bosom. 

"What  can  be  the  matter  with  him?"  the 
mother  cried,  questioning  herself  and  others. 

Uncle  Maxim  carefully  scanning  the  boy's 
face,  could  in  no  way  explain  his  strange  alarm. 

''I  suppose  he  cannot  understand,"  suggested 
the  mother,  thus  construing  the  expression  of 
mute  surprise  and  distressed  inquiry  upon  her 
son's  face. 

The  child  indeed  was  frightened  and  uneasy. 
At  first  he  had  seemed  to  catch  eagerly  at  the 
unaccustomed  sounds,  but  soon  he  showed  his 
surprise  that  the  noises  already  familiar  to  his 
ear  were  all  at  once  hushed  and  gone. 


VI. 

Soon  the  chaotic  sounds  of  spring-time  died 
away.  Encouraged  by  the  burning  rays  of  the 
sun,  Nature  fell  into  her  ancient  grooves,  and 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  25 

gradually  settled  down  to  work.  The  newly 
springing  life  did  its  utmost ;  its  rate  of  speed 
increased  like  a  swiftly  rushing  steam-train. 
The  tender  grass  was  springing  in  the  fields, 
and  the  odor  of  the  birch-buds  filled  the  air. 

It  was  proposed  to  take  the  boy  out  into  the 
meadows  to  the  bank  of  the  nearest  river.  The 
mother  led  him  by  the  hand,  Uncle  Maxim, 
leaning  on  his  crutch  and  cane,  walked  by  her 
side,  and  thus  the  three  started  for  the  little  hill 
near  the  river,  where  the  sun  and  the  wind  had 
already  dried  the  ground.  It  was  thickly  car- 
peted with  green  grass,  and  its  summit  com- 
manded quite  a  broad  view.  The  brilliant 
daylight  dazzled  the  eyes  of  Maxim  and  the 
mother ;  and  when  the  sunbeams  burned  their 
faces,  the  spring  breeze  came  with  its  invisible 
wings,  dispelling  the  warmth  by  a  refreshing 
coolness.  There  was  a  sense  of  enchantment, 
of  intoxication,  in  the  air. 

The  mother  felt  the  child's  tiny  hand  cling- 
ing fast  to  her  own,  but  so  transported  was  she 


2 6  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


by  the  exhilarating  influence  of  the  spring-time 
that  she  was  less  keenly  observant  than  usual  of 
this  sign  of  childish  alarm.  She  breathed  in 
long  and  full  respirations,  and  walked  along 
without  once  turning  her  head.  Had  she 
looked  down  at  her  boy,  she  would  have  dis- 
covered a  strange  expression  on  his  face.  He 
turned  his  wide-open  eyes  toward  the  sun  with 
a  sense  of  surprise.  His  lips  were  parted  ;  in- 
haling the  air,  he  gasped  like  a  fish  that  has  just 
been  taken  out  of  the  water ;  an  expression  of 
mingled  pain  and  delight  was  depicted  on  his 
bewildered  face,  which  passing  over  it  like  a 
nerve- wave  illumined  the  face  for  a  moment, 
yielding  directly  however  to  the  former  ex- 
pression of  surprise,  that  might  almost  be  called 
alarm.  The  eyes  alone  constantly  preserved 
their  steady,  unchanging,  and  sightless  gaze. 

Having  reached  the  hill,  all  three  seated 
themselves.  As  the  mother  was  lifting  the  boy 
to  place  him  in  a  more  comfortable  position,  he 
caught  nervously  at  her  dress  like  one  who  is  on 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  27 

the  point  of  falling,  almost  as  if  he  no  longer  felt 
the  ground  beneath  his  feet.  Again  the  mother 
took  no  heed  of  his  alarm,  because  both  her 
own  eyes  and  attention  were  absorbed  in  the 
charming  spring  landscape. 

It  was  noonday.  Slowly  the  sun  sailed  across 
the  blue  sky.  From  the  elevation  where  they 
sat  could  be  seen  the  wide-spreading  river.  Its 
ice  had  already  floated  down  the  current,  save 
a  few  occasional  fragments  dotting  the  surface 
here  and  there,  which  were  fast  melting  away. 
On  the  low  meadows  the  v/ater  was  still  stand- 
ing in  broad  lagoons,  which  reflected  the  blue 
dome  of  the  heavens  and  the  snowy  clouds  that 
slowly  passed  and  vanished  like  the  melting  ice. 
A  gentle  breeze  rippled  the  glistening  surface  of 
the  river.  Looking  across  to  the  opposite  shore 
one  could  see  the  dark  grain-fields,  whose  steam- 
ing vapor  rising  wave  after  wave  veiled  the 
thatched  huts  far  away  in  the  distance,  and  ob- 
scured the  vague  blue  outline  of  the  forest.  It 
was  as  if  the  earth  sent  up  its  clouds  of  incense 
to  the  sky. 


28  THE   BLIA4J   MUSICIAN. 

All  this,  however,  was  visible  only  to  those  who 
had  eyes.  The  boy  saw  nothing  of  this  picture  ; 
he  could  not  look  upon  that  festival  of  Nature, 
nor  on  her  marvellous  temple  ;  his  sensations 
were  vague  and  broken  ;  his  childish  heart  was 
troubled.  When  he  had  first  started,  with  the 
sun's  rays  falling  full  upon  his  face,  warming  his 
delicate  skin,  he  instinctively  turned  his  sightless 
eyes  in  its  direction,  as  if  he  realized  the  central 
force  in  the  invisible  picture  before  him.  The 
transparent  distance,  the  blue  dome  overhead, 
the  wide  horizon,  had  no  existence  so  far  as  he 
was  concerned.  The  sole  effect  produced  on 
him  was  a  sense  of  some  material  substance, 
warmincj  his  face  with  its  soft  caress.  Then 
something  both  cool  and  light,  although  less 
tangible  than  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  lifted  from 
his  face  this  sensation  of  tender  caressing  lan- 
guor, and  left  behind  a  delicious  coolness. 
Within  the  house  the  boy  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  move  freely,  conscious  of  the  space 
surrounding   him.      Here  he  was  encompassed 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  29 

by  pursuing  waves,  which  now  caressed  and  now 
excited  and  intoxicated  him.  The  sun's  warm 
touch  was  suddenly  brushed  away  ;  a  gust  of 
wind  began  to  ring  in  his  ears  and  to  blow  about 
his  face  and  temples,  —  indeed  all  over  his 
head,  down  to  the  very  nape  of  his  neck,  whirl- 
ing around  him  as  though  it  were  trying  to  bear 
him  away,  or  to  entice  him  somewhere  into  the 
invisible  space,  benumbing  his  consciousness, 
and  lulling  him  into  a  languor  of  forgetfulness. 
Then  the  boy's  hand  would  cling  more  closely 
to  his  mother's,  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  though 
his  heart  must  cease  to  beat.  However,  after 
he  was  seated  he  appeared  to  grow  calmer.  Al- 
ready, notwithstanding  the  strange  sensation  that 
pervaded  his  whole  being,  he  had  begun  to  dis- 
tinguish the  separate  sounds.  The  atmospheric 
waves  were  still  dashing  tumultuously  about  him  ; 
and  as  the  throbbings  of  his  quickened  pulse 
beat  time  to  the  music  of  these  waves,  it  seemed 
to  him  that  they  were  entering  his  very  body. 
From   time  to   time   they  brought   to   him  the 


ЗО  THE   BLIXD   MUSICIAN. 

lark's  sharp  trill,  the  soft  whisper  of  the  budding 
birch,  or  the  gentle  splash  of  the  flowing  river. 
The  lark,  whizzing  by  on  its  light  wings,  paused 
just  overhead  to  describe  its  capricious  circles ; 
the  gnats  buzzed ;  and  over  all,  sad  and  pro- 
longed, rose  the  occasional  cry  of  the  plough- 
man, urging  his  horses  over  a  half-ploughed 
strip  of  land. 

The  boy  failed  to  grasp  these  sounds  in  their 
entirety ;  he  could  neither  unite  them  nor  group 
them  in  any  satisfactory  sequence.  One  by  one 
they  seemed  to  project  themselves  into  his  dark 
little  head,  now  soft  and  vague  ;  now  loud,  sharp, 
and  deafening.  At  times  they  came  crowding 
confusedly  on  each  other,  jumbled  in  meaning- 
less discord.  Faster  and  faster  ran  the  waves  ; 
now  it  seemed  to  the  boy  as  if  above  all  this  tu- 
mult of  sounds  he  could  hear  muffled  echoes, 
like  memiories  of  the  past,  coming  to  him  from 
another  world.  When  the  sounds  grew  fainter,  a 
sense  of  dreamy  languor  came  over  him  ;  a  con- 
vulsive twitching  betrayed  the  successive  waves 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


of  feeling  that  swept  across  his  face  ;  he  closed 
his  eyes,  then  opened  them,  and  every  feature 
seemed  to  ask  a  question,  striving  to  grasp  the 
situation.  His  childish  sense  of  appreciation, 
as  yet  but  feeble, —  overwhelmed  as  it  was  with 
new  impressions,  although  it  still  struggled 
against  the  tide,  making  an  effort  to  hold  its 
own,  to  combine  them  into  something  like  unity, 
and  thus  to  gain  the  victory  over  them, — 
showed  signs  of  giving  away.  The  task  was  too 
great  for  the  brain  of  a  blind  child,  destitute  of 
the  necessary  images  by  means  of  which  he 
might  have  achieved  it. 

All  these  sounds  rose  into  the  air,  flying  to 
and  fro,  and  falling  one  by  one,  all  too  varied, 
too  resonant.  The  waves  that  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  boy  rose  with  greater  force  from  the 
darkness  that  encompassed  him  with  its  rever- 
berating echoes,  and  were  again  resolved  into 
the  same  darkness,  only  to  be  replaced  by  other 
waves  and  other  sounds  more  and  more  hurried, 
soaring  above  him,  filling  his  soul  with  anguish ; 


32  THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

again  they  seemed  to  lift  him  up,  as  if  lulHng 
him  to  repose  with  gentle  rocking  motion.  Sud- 
denly above  this  vague  confusion  arose  the  long- 
drawn  note  of  a  human  call ;  then  all  at  once 
everything  became  still.  With  a  faint  moan  the 
boy  rolled  over  backward  on  the  grass.  The 
mother  turned  instantly,  and  she  in  her  turn 
uttered  a  cry  :  he  was  lying  on  the  grass  in  a 
deep  swoon. 

VII. 

Uncle  Maxim  was  very  much  disturbed  by 
this  occurrence.  He  had  of  late  ordered  a 
number  of  physiological,  psychological,  and  edu- 
cational works,  and  with  his  habitual  energy  had 
devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  all  that  science 
has  revealed  concerning  the  mysterious  growth 
and  development  of  a  child's  soul.  The  de- 
light of  these  studies  had  so  charmed  him 
that  all  brooding  fancies  concerning  his  own 
useiessness  in  the  battle  of  life,  ''  the  worm  grov- 
elling  in  the  dust,"  and  ^^  the   hospital  ambu- 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


ъъ 


lance,"  had  long  since  vanished  from  the  inva- 
lid's square  head,  and  in  their  stead  appeared 
a  deep  and  thoughtful  absorption ;  rose-colored 
hopes  even  came  from  time  to  time  to  warm 
the  veteran's  heart.  Uncle  Maxim  grew  more 
and  more  convinced  that  Nature,  although  she 
had  deprived  the  boy  of  his  sight,  had  not  in 
other  respects  dealt  unjustly  with  him.  He  was 
a  creature  who  responded  with  remarkable 
activity  and  completeness  to  the  exterior  im- 
pressions accessible  to  him.  Uncle  Maxim 
conceived  it  to  be  his  duty  to  develop  the  la- 
tent capabilities  of  the  boy,  so  that  the  inj'us- 
tice  of  his  doom  might  be  counterbalanced  by 
the  efforts  of  his  own  mind  and  influence,  and 
that  he  might  be  enabled  to  send  as  a  substitute 
into  the  battle  of  life  another  and  a  younger 
combatant,  who  without  his  influence  would  be 
lost  to  the  service. 

"Who  knows,"  thought  the  old  Garibaldian, 
"  but  there  may  be  a  fight  in  which  neither 
lance    nor    sword    are    needed?    Perchance    he 

3 


34 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


with  whom  fate  has  dealt  so  hardly  may  some- 
time employ  the  weapons  that  he  is  capable  of 
wielding  in  the  defence  of  others,  victims  of  fate 
like  himself;  and  then  my  life  will  not  have 
been  spent  in  vain,  old  crippled  soldier  that 
I  am  !  " 

Even  the  free-thinkers  during  the  forties  and 
fifties  of  the  present  century  were  not  free  from 
superstitious  ideas  regarding  the  ^'  mysterious 
designs  of  Nature."  Therefore  it  was  not  sur- 
prising that  with  the  gradual  development  of  the 
child,  who  showed  unusual  gifts.  Uncle  Maxim 
should  have  arrived  at  the  firm  conviction  that 
his  very  blindness  was  only  one  of  the  manifes- 
tations of  those  mysterious  designs.  "  One  un- 
fortunate for  another," — this  was  the  motto 
which  Uncle  Maxim  had  already  inscribed  on 
his  pupil's  standard. 

VIII. 

After  that  first  excursion  in  the  spring,  the 
boy  was  delirious  for  several  days.     He  either 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


35 


lay  quiet  and  motionless  upon  his  bed,  or  kept 
up  a  constant  muttering,  as  if  he  were  listening 
to  something.  Meanwhile  the  peculiar  expres- 
sion of  wonder  never  left  his  face. 

*'  He  really  looks  as  if  he  were  trying  in 
vain  to  understand  something,"  said  the  young 
mother. 

Maxim  had  grown  thoughtful ;  he  merely 
nodded.  He  had  suspected  that  the  boy's 
strange  alarm,  as  well  as  his  swoon,  might  be 
attributed  to  the  numerous  impressions  which 
the  boy's  perceptive  faculties  had  been  unable 
to  grasp ;  and  he  decided  to  allow  these  im- 
pressions to  find  their  way  into  the  mind  of  the 
convalescent  child  by  degrees,  disintegrated,  so 
to  speak,  into  their  component  parts.  The 
windows  of  the  invalid's  room  had  been  closed, 
but  when  he  began  to  recover,  they  were  occa- 
sionally opened.  Some  member  of  the  family 
used  to  lead  him  about  the  rooms,  and  into  the 
vestibule,  the  yard,  and  the  garden.  Every  time 
his  mother  observed  a  look  of  alarm  upon  his 


Зб  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

face,  she  would  explain  to  him  the  nature  of  the 
sounds  that  perplexed  him.  ''That  is  the  shep- 
herd's horn  you  hear  beyond  the  wood,"  she 
explained  ;  "  and  that  sound  which  you  hear 
above  the  twittering  of  the  sparrows  is  the  note 
of  the  red-wing.  Listen  to  the  stork  gurgling 
on  his  wheel.-^  He  has  just  arrived  from  distant 
lands,  and  is  now  building  his  nest  on  the 
old  spot." 

As  the  mother  spoke  thus,  the  boy  turned 
toward  her,  his  face  beaming  with  gratitude,  and 
seized  her  hand  and  nodded,  as  with  a  thought- 
ful and  intelligent  expression  he  continued 
to  listen. 

IX. 

Now,  when  anything  attracted  his  attention 
he  always  asked  what  it  meant ;  and  his  mother, 
or  more  frequently  Uncle  Maxim,  would  explain 

1  In  Little  Russia,  high  posts  with  old  wheels  fas- 
tened to  the  top  are  put  up  for  the  storks,  and  upon 

these  the  bird  weaves  its  nest. 


TFfE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  37 

to  him  the  nature  of  the  objects  or  of  the  crea- 
tures that  caused  these  various  sounds.  His 
mother's  explanations,  more  Hvely  and  graphic, 
impressed  the  boy  with  greater  force ;  but 
sometimes  this  impression  would  be  too  painful. 
Upon  the  features  of  the  young  woman,  herself 
suffering,  could  be  read  the  expression  of  her 
inmost  feelings,  and  in  her  eyes  a  silent  protest 
or  a  look  of  pain,  as  she  strove  to  convey  to  the 
child  an  idea  of  form  and  color.  With  con- 
tracted brow  and  wrinkled  forehead  the  boy 
concentrated  his  whole  attention.  Evidently 
his  brain  was  at  work  struggling  with  difficult 
problems ;  his  unpractised  imagination  strove 
to  shape  from  the  descriptions  given  him  a  new 
image,  — a  feat  which  it  was  unable  to  perform. 
At  such  times  Uncle  Maxim  always  frowned  with 
displeasure ;  and  when  the  tears  appeared  in 
the  mother's  eyes,  and  the  child's  face  grew  pale 
from  the  effect  of  his  intense  effort,  Maxim 
would  interfere,  and  taking  his  sister's  place 
would  tell  his  nephew  stories,  in  the  invention 


38  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

of  which  he  would  try  to  use  only  such  ideas  as 
related  to  sound  and  space.  Then  the  face  of 
the  blind  boy  would  grow  calmer. 

"And  is  he  big?"  the  child  asked  about  the 
stork,  who  seemed  to  be  beating  in  his  nest  a 
slow  tattoo.  Saying  this  he  began  to  spread 
out  his  arms ;  for  this  was  his  custom  whenever 
he  asked  such  questions,  and  Uncle  Maxim 
would  always  tell  him  when  he  had  extended 
them  far  enough.  But  this  time  he  had 
stretched  out  his  little  arms  to  their  utmost 
limit,  and  Uncle  Maxim  said,  — 

"  No,  he  is  still  larger.  If  he  were  brought 
into  this  room  and  put  upon  the  floor,  his  head 
would  reach  above  the  back  of  the  chair." 

"He  is  large,"  said  the  boy  thoughtfully; 
"and  the  red-wing  is  like  this,"  slightly  parting 
his  folded  palms. 

"  Yes,  the  red-wing  is  like  this.  But  the  large 
birds  never  sing  so  well  as  little  ones.  The  red- 
wing tries  to  make  everybody  pleased  to  hear 
him,  but  the  stork  is  a  serious  bird;   he  stands 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  39 

on  one  leg  in  his  nest,  and  looks  about  like  an 
angry  master  watching  his  workmen,  and  mut- 
ters aloud,  heeding  not  that  his  voice  is  hoarse, 
and  that  he  can  be  overheard  by  outsiders." 

The  boy  laughed  merrily  while  he  listened  to 
these  descriptions,  and  for  a  time  forgot  his 
painful  efforts  to  understand  his  mother's  words. 
Yet  her  stories  possessed  a  greater  charm  for 
him,  and  he  preferred  to  question  her  rather 
than  Uncle  Maxim. 


TUL-BLIND-BOY- 
THE"  AELODY- 


<оцрее5^ 

MVSICAL 

^  f  EELING   Thus  the  dark  mind  of  the 

child  was  gradually  enriched  by  new  images. 
By  means  of  his  abnormally  keen  sense  of 
hearing  he  was  enabled  to  penetrate  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  secrets  of  Nature.  The 
dense,  impenetrable  gloom  that  veiled  his  brain 
like  a  heavy  cloud  still  enfolded  him,  and  al- 
though he  had  felt  this  from  his  birth,  and  one 
might  suppose  that  he  would  have  become 
accustomed    to    his    misfortune,    yet    such   was 


44  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

the  temperament  of  the  child  that  he  instinc- 
tively strove  to  free  himself  from  this  dark 
curtain.  His  perpetual  though  unconscious 
efforts  to  gain  that  light  of  which  he  knew 
not,  had  left  upon  his  face  the  impress  of  his 
vague  and  painful  struggle. 

Yet  the  blind  boy  enjoyed  moments  of  quiet 
satisfaction,  even  of  childish  delight,  which 
came  to  him  whenever  he  received  a  keen  sen- 
sation from  certain  outward  impressions,  reveal- 
ing unfamiliar  manifestations  of  the  unseen 
world.  Nature  in  all  her  grandeur  and  power 
was  not  wholly  inaccessible  to  him.  Once,  for 
instance,  when  he  was  led  to  a  high  cliff  above 
the  river,  he  listened  with  a  peculiar  expression 
to  the  far-away  splashing  of  the  water  below, 
and  when  he  heard  the  stones  slipping  from  be- 
neath his  feet  he  seized  his  mother's  dress  and 
held  his  breath  in  fear.  From  that  time  depth 
was  represented  to  him  by  the  gentle  murmuring 
of  water  at  the  foot  of  a  cliff,  or  by  the  startling 
sound  of  stones  falling. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


45 


A  remote  and  indistinct  song  conveyed  to  the 
mind  of  the  boy  the  idea  of  distance  ;  but  when 
during  a  storm  in  the  spring-time  the  peaHng 
thunder  rang  out,  fiUing  all  the  air  with  its  rever- 
berations and  angry  mutterings,  gradually  dying 
away  amid  the  clouds,  he  listened  with  awe,  his 
heart  swelling  with  emotion,  and  in  his  mind 
arose  a  grand  conception  of  the  magnitude  of 
the  firmament.  Thus  sound  embodied  for  the 
child  the  immediate  expression  of  the  outside 
world  ;  all  other  impressions  were  merely  supple- 
mentary to  that  of  hearing,  by  whose  aid  his 
ideas  took  form  as  if  poured  into  a  mould. 

Sometimes  during  the  heat  of  noonday, 
when  all  around  was  quiet,  when  human  life 
seemed  at  a  standstill,  and  Nature  had  lapsed 
into  that  peculiar  repose  beneath  which  the 
noiseless  current  of  life  is  felt  rather  than  seen, 
the  face  of  the  blind  boy  likewise  assumed 
an  expression  peculiar  to  himself.  He  seemed 
like  one  absorbed  in  listening  to  sounds  inau- 
dible to  all  the  world  beside,  —  sounds  issuing 


46  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

from  the  depths  of  his  own  soul,  impelled  to 
utterance  by  the  universal  calm.  One  who 
observed  him  at  such  moments  might  fancy  that 
his  vague  thoughts  had  found  an  echo  in  his 
heart,  like  the  uncertain  melody  of  a  song. 


11. 

The  blind  boy  was  already  five  years  old. 
Slender  and  frail  he  was,  it  is  true,  but  still  he 
could  walk  and  even  run  with  ease  and  freedom 
around  the  house.  No  stranger  on  seeing  him 
walk  with  such  entire  confidence  from  room  to 
room,  always  turning  at  the  right  place  and  find- 
ing what  he  sought,  would  for  one  moment  have 
suspected  that  the  boy  was  blind ;  he  would 
simply  have  been  taken  for  a  child  intensely  in 
earnest,  ever  W4th  a  far-away  look  in  his  eyes. 
But  in  the  yard  he  moved  with  less  confidence, 
feeling  his  way  by  the  aid  of  his  cane.  If  it  so 
chanced  that  he  had  no  cane  in  his  hand,  he 
chose  rather  to  creep  upon  the  ground,  passing 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  47 

his  hands  rapidly  over  every  object  that  came 
in  his  way. 

III. 

It  was  a  calm  summer  evening.  Uncle  Maxim 
was  sitting  in  the  garden.  The  father  as  usual 
was  occupied  in  some  distant  field.  Everything 
was  quiet  in  the  yard  and  around  the  house  ;  the 
hamlet  was  to  all  appearances  going  to  sleep, 
and  the  hum  of  the  servants'  and  workmen's 
voices  had  likewise  ceased. 

The  boy  had  already  been  in  bed  for  half  an 
hour.  He  lay  between  sleeping  and  waking.  For 
a  certain  length  of  time  this  peaceful  hour  had 
seemed  to  arouse  strange  memories  within  him. 
Of  course  he  could  see  neither  the  dusky  blue 
sky,  nor  the  dark  waving  tree-tops,  outlined 
sharp  and  clear  against  the  starry  heavens,  nor 
the  frowning  peaks  of  the  courtyard  buildings, 
nor  the  blue  haze  overspreading  the  ground,  min- 
gling with  the  pale  golden  light  of  the  moon  and 
the  stars.     For  several  days  he  had  fallen  asleep 


48  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

under  the  charm  of  a  spell  of  which  he  could 
render  no  account  the  following  day.  When 
drowsiness  had  benumbed  his  senses,  when  he 
could  no  longer  hear  the  rustle  of  the  beech- 
trees,  or  the  distant  barking  of  the  village  dogs, 
or  the  voice  of  the  nightingale  beyond  the  river, 
or  the  melancholy  tinkling  of  the  bells  attached 
to  the  colt  browsing  in  the  neighboring  field,  — 
when  all  these  varied  sounds  grew  faint  and  in- 
distinct, it  seemed  to  the  blind  boy  that  they 
were  all  merged  in  one  harmonious  melody, 
which  made  its  way  quietly  into  the  room,  and 
hovering  over  his  bed  brought  in  its  train  vague 
but  enticing  dreams.  The  next  morning  when 
he  woke  he  still  felt  their  influence,  and  asked 
his  mother  :  "  What  was  that  —  yesterday?  What 
was  it?  " 

The  mother  did  not  know  what  her  child 
meant ;  she  thought  he  was  probably  excited  by 
some  dream.  That  night  she  put  him  to  bed 
herself,  and  when  she  saw  that  he  was  on  the 
point   of   falling    asleep,  she    left    him    without 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  49 

observing  anything  unusual.  But  on  the  follow- 
ing day  the  boy  again  spoke  to  her  of  something 
he  had  heard  the  previous  evening  which  had 
made  him  feel  so  happy.  "  It  was  lovely, 
mamma,  —  so  lovely  !     What  was  it?  " 

That  night  the  mother  decided  to  remain 
longer  by  her  child's  bedside,  to  discover  if  pos- 
sible the  solution  to  this  strange  riddle.  •  She  sat 
in  a  chair  beside  the  crib,  knitting  mechanically, 
listening  meanwhile  to  the  even  breathing  of  her 
Petrusya.i  She  thought  he  was  asleep,  when  sud- 
denly his  gentle  voice  was  heard  in  the  darkness  : 

"  Mamma,  are  you  there?  " 

"■  Yes,  yes,  my  boy  !  " 

"  Please  go  away;  i^  must  be  afraid  of  you  ; 
//  has  not  come.  I  had  almost  dropped  to 
sleep,  and  still  it  has  not  come." 

The  astonished  mother  heard  the  child's 
drowsy  and  plaintive  whisper  with  a  strange  sen- 
sation. He  spoke  of  his  dreams  in  the  most 
perfect  good  faith,  as  though  they  were  reality. 

1  Diminutive  of  Peter.  —  Tr; 
4 


5  о  THE    BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

Nevertheless  the  mother  rose,  bent  down  to  kiss 
him,  and  then  quietly  left  the  room  ;  but  she 
determined  to  creep  cautiously  round  to  the 
open  window  that  looked  out  into  the  garden. 
Before  she  succeeded  in  carrying  her  plan  into 
execution,  the  riddle  was  solved.  Suddenly 
from  the  stable  came  the  soft  musical  tones  of  a 
shepherd's  pipe,  blending  with  the  gentle  rust- 
ling sounds  of  the  southern  evening.  She  had 
no  difficulty  in  divining  the  pleasing  influence 
which  these  simple  modulations  of  an  artless 
melody,  harmonizing  with  the  witching  hour  of 
dreams,  would  naturally  possess  over  the  imag- 
ination of  her  boy.  She  herself  paused,  and 
stood  for  a  moment  listening  to  the  tender 
strains  of  a  song  of  Little  Russia,  and  with  a  sense 
of  relief  entered  the  dusky  garden  in  search  of 
Uncle  Maxim. 

''  Joachim  plays  well,"  the  mother  thought. 
"  It  is  strange  that  this  fellow  who  seems 
so  rough  should  possess  such'  an  amount  of 
feeUng." 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN, 


51 


IV. 

Joachim  really  did  play  well.  He  could  even 
handle  the  more  intricate  violin,  and  there  had 
been  a  time  when  on  a  Sunday  at  the  inn  no  one 
had  played  the  Cossack  dance  or  the  merry 
Polish  Cracovienne  better  than  himself.  When 
seated  on  a  cask  with  the  violin  braced  against 
his  shaven  chin,  and  his  tall  sheepskin  hat  on 
the  back  of  his  head,  he  would  draw  the  bow 
across  the  quivering  strings,  hardly  a  man  in  the 
inn  could  keep  his  seat.  Even  the  old  one-eyed 
Jew  who  accompanied  Joachim  on  a  bass-viol 
would  wax  enthusiastic,  his  awkward  instrument 
with  its  heavy  bass  straining  every  nerve,  as  it 
were,  to  keep  time  with  the  light  notes  of  Joa- 
chim's violin,  which  seemed  to  dance  as  well  as 
sing ;  while  old  Yankel  himself,  with  his  skull- 
cap on  his  head,  would  lift  his  shoulders  and 
turn  his  bald  head,  keeping  time  with  his  body 
to  the  gay  capricious  tune.  It  would  hardly  be 
worth  while  to  describe  the  effect  upon  others 


52  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

whose  feet  are  so  made  that  at  the  very  first  note 
of  a  dancing  tune  they  involuntarily  begin  to 
shuffle  and  stamp. 

Ever  since  Joachim  had  fallen  in  love  with 
Marya,  a  courtyard  servant-maid  of  the  neigh- 
boring Pan,  he  had  neglected  his  merry  violin. 
In  truth  it  had  not  helped  him  to  win  the  heart 
of  the  saucy  Marya,  who  preferred  the  smooth 
German  face  of  her  master's  valet  to  the  bearded 
visage  of  the  musician.  Since  that  time  his 
violin  had  not  been  heard  either  in  the  inn  or 
at  the  evening  gatherings.  He  had  hung  it  on 
a  nail  in  the  stable,  nor  did  he  seem  aware 
that  from  dampness  and  neglect  the  strings  of 
the  instrument,  once  so  dear  to  his  heart, 
were  constantly  snapping  with  a  sound  so 
sharp,  plaintive,  and  dismal  that  the  very  horses 
neighed  in  sympathy,  and  turned  their  heads  to 
gaze  in  wonder  at  their  indifferent  master.  In 
order  to  supply  its  place,  Joachim  had  purchased 
from  a  travelling  Carpathian  mountaineer  a 
wooden  pipe.     He  probably  expected  to  find  it 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN.  53 


a  more  suitable  medium  wherewith  to  express 
the  sorrow  of  a  rejected  heart,  and  that  its 
sympathetic  modulations  would  harmonize  with 
his  hard  lot.  But  the  mountain  pipe  disap- 
pointed Joachim's  expectations.  He  tried  nearly 
a  dozen  of  them  in  turn,  in  every  possible  way ; 
he  cut  them,  soaked  them  in  water,  dried  them 
in  the  sun,  hung  them  up  under  the  roof  to  dry 
in  the  wind,  —  but  all  to  no  avail.  The  moun- 
tain pipe  did  not  commend  itself  to  the 
Hohol's '  heart.  It  whistled  where  it  should 
have  sung,  wailed  when  he  wanted  a  sentimental 
tremolo,  and  never  in  fact  responded  to  his 
mood. 

At  last  Joachim  grew  disgusted  with  all  the 
wandering  mountaineers,  having  made  up  his 
mind  that  not  one  of  them  understood  the  art 
of  producing  a  good  pipe,  and  decided  to 
manufacture  one  with  his  own  hands.  For  sev- 
eral days  he  roamed  with  frowning  brow  through 
swamp  and  field  ;  went  up  to  every  willow  bush, 

1  Nicknaiiie  for  Little  Russian.  —  Tr. 


54  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

examined  its  branches,  occasionally  cut  off  one 
of  them ;  but  he  failed  to  find  just  what  he 
needed.  With  sternly  frowning  brow  he  still 
pursued  his  search,  and  came  at  last  to  a  spot 
above  the  slowly  running  river,  where  the  placid 
waters  barely  stirred  the  lilies'  snow-white 
heads.  This  nook  was  sheltered  from  the  wind 
by  a  dense  growth  of  spreading  willows  that 
hung  their  pensive  heads  over  the  dusky  and 
peaceful  depths  below.  Parting  the  bushes, 
Joachim  made  his  way  down  to  the  river,  where 
he  paused  for  a  moment ;  and  the  idea  sud- 
denly came  to  him  that  this  was  the  very  spot 
where  he  was  to  find  the  object  of  his  search. 
The  wrinkles  vanished  from  his  brow.  From 
his  boot-leg  he  drew  out  a  knife  with  a  string 
attached  to  it,  and  after  carefully  examining  a 
faintly  whispering  young  willow,  he  unhesita- 
tingly selected  a  straight  and  slender  stalk  that 
bent  over  the  steep,  crumbling  shore.  Tapping 
it  with  his  finger  for  some  purpose  of  his  own, 
a  look  of  self-satisfaction  came  upon  his  face,  as 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  55 

he  watched  it  sway  to  and  fro  in  the  air,  and 
hstened  to  the  gentle  murmur  of  its  leaves. 

"That  is  the  very  thing,"  he  muttered,  nod- 
ding with  dehght,  as  he  threw  into  the  river  the 
twigs  he  had  previously  cut. 

It  proved  to  be  a  glorious  pipe.  Having 
dried  the  willow,  Joachim  burned  out  the  pith 
with  a  red-hot  wire  ;  and  boring  six  round  holes, 
he  cut  the  seventh  crosswise  and  tightly  closed 
one  end  with  a  wooden  plug,  across  which  he 
cut  a  narrow  slit.  Then  for  a  week  he  hung 
the  pipe  up  by  a  slender  string,  that  it  might  be 
warmed  by  the  sun  and  dried  by  the  wind ; 
after  which  he  carefully  cleaned  it  with  his 
knife,  scraped  it  with  glass,  and  rubbed  it  hard 
with  a  piece  of  cloth.  The  upper  part  of  the 
pipe  was  round ;  on  its  smoothly  polished  sur- 
face he  burned  with  a  twisted  bit  of  iron  all 
sorts  of  curious  designs.  When  he  at  last  tested 
his  instrument  by  playing  upon  it  several  tones 
of  the  scale,  he  nodded  his  head  excitedly, 
emitted  a  grunt  of  satisfiiction,  and  hastily  hid 


56  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

it  in  a  safe  place  near  his  bed.  He  did  not  like 
to  make  the  first  musical  trial  amid  the  turmoil 
of  the  day ;  but  that  very  evening,  trills  deli- 
cately modulated,  tender,  pensive,  and  vibrating, 
might  have  been  heard  from  the  direction  of 
the  stable.  Joachim  was  perfectly  satisfied  with 
his  pipe.  It  seemed  a  part  of  himself;  its  ut- 
terances came,  as  it  were,  from  his  own  enthu- 
siastic and  sentimental  bosom  ;  and  every  change 
of  feeling,  every  shade  of  sorrow,  was  forthwith 
transmitted  to  his  wonderful  pipe,  which  in  its 
turn  repeated  it  in  gentle  echoes  to  the  listening 
evening. 

V. 

Now,  Joachim  in  love  with  his  pipe  was  cele- 
brating his  honey-moon.  In  the  daytime  he 
conscientiously  fulfilled  his  duties  as  a  stable- 
boy,  —  watered  the  horses,  harnessed  them,  and 
drove  with  the  Pani  or  with  Maxim.  Sometimes, 
when  he  looked  over  toward  the  neighboring 
village   where    the  cruel  Mkrya  lived,  his  heart 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  57 

was  conscious  of  a  pang.  But  as  evening 
drew  on,  all  his  woes  were  forgotten ;  even  the 
image  of  the  dark-browed  maiden  lost  distinct- 
ness, as  it  stood  before  him  enveloped  in  mist, 
faintly  outlined  against  a  pale  background,  serv- 
ing but  to  lend  a  certain  pensive  melancholy 
to  his  melodious  pipe. 

As  he  lay  in  the  stable  that  evening,  Joachim's 
musical  ecstasy  found  vent  in  tremulous  melo- 
dies. The  musician  had  not  only  forgotten  the 
cruel  beauty,  but  had  even  lost  all  conscious- 
ness of  his  own  existence,  when  suddenly  he 
started  and  sprang  up  in  bed,  leaning  on  his 
elbow.  Just  when  his  notes  were  growing  most 
pathetic,  he  felt  a  tiny  hand  pass  swiftly  and 
lightly  over  his  face  and  hands,  and  then  with 
equal  swiftness  over  the  pipe.  At  the  same 
time  he  heard  by  his  side  the  rapid  panting  of 
one  whose  breathing  is  quickened  by  agitation. 
"  Begone,  away  with  you  !  "  he  uttered  the  usual 
exhortation,  and  immediately  added  the  ques- 
tion :   "  Are  you  the  good  or  the  evil  spirit?" 


58  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

that  he  might  know  if  it  were  the  Evil  with 
whom  he  had  to  deal.  But  a  moonbeam  that 
had  just  crept  into  the  stable  showed  him  his 
mistake.  Beside  him  stood  the  small  Pan,  wist- 
fully stretching  forth  his  little  hands. 

An  hour  later,  the  mother  on  going  to  take  a 
look  at  her  sleeping  Petrusya  did  not  find  him 
in  bed.  For  a  moment  she  was  startled,  but  the 
maternal  instinct  directly  told  her  where  to  look 
for  the  lost  boy.  Joachim,  pausing  for  a  mo- 
ment, was  quite  abashed  at  the  unexpected 
sight  of  the  "  gracious  Pani  "  standing  in  the 
doorway  of  the  stable.  It  appeared  that  she 
had  been  there  for  several  moments  before  he 
ceased  playing,  watching  her  boy,  who  sat  on 
the  cot  wrapped  in  Joachim's  sheepskin  coat, 
listening  intently  for  the  interrupted  melody. 

VI. 

From  that  evening  the  boy  came  to  Joachim 
Ш  the  stable  every  night.     It  never  occurred  to 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  59 


him  to  ask  Joachim  to  play  for  him  during  the 
daytime ;  he  seemed  to  fancy  that  the  stir  and 
bustle  of  the  day  precluded  all  possibility  of 
these  sweet  melodies.  But  as  soon  as  the  shades 
of  evening  began  to  fall,  Petriisya  was  seized 
with  a  feverish  impatience.  The  evening  tea 
and  supper  served  but  as  signs  of  the  approach 
of  the  longed-for  moment ;  and  the  mother,  al- 
though she  felt  an  instinctive  aversion  for  those 
musical  seances,  still  could  not  forbid  her  dar- 
ling to  seek  the  company  of  the  piper  and  spend 
two  hours  with  him  in  the  stable  before  bedtime. 
Those  hours  became  for  the  boy  the  happiest  of 
his  life ;  and  the  mother  saw  with  painful  jeal- 
ousy that  the  impressions  of  the  previous  evening 
held  entire  possession  of  the  child ;  that  during 
the  day  he  no  longer  responded  to  her  caresses 
with  his  former  ardor ;  that  while  sitting  in  her 
lap  with  his  arms  about  her,  his  thoughts  would 
revert  to  Joachim's  song  of  the  previous 
evening. 

It  suddenly  occurred  to  the  mother  that  while 


6o  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

she  was  in  the  pension  of  Pani  Radetzka,  several 
years  ago,  she  had  among  other  "  dehghtful 
accompUshments  "  pursued  the  study  of  music. 
This  reminiscence  was  not  in  itself  a  source  of 
delight,  because  it  was  connected  with  the  mem- 
ory of  her  teacher,  —  one  Klapps  ;  a  lean,  prosy, 
and  irritable  old  German  Fraulein.  This  bilious 
maiden,  who  in  order  to  impart  to  the  fingers  of 
her  pupils  the  required  flexibility,  had  trained 
them  most  skilfully,  succeeded  at  the  same 
time  in  destroying  every  vestige  of  poetical 
and  musical  feeling.  The  very  presence  of 
Pani  Klapps,  not  to  mention  her  pedantic 
method,  was  well  calculated  to  abash  so  sen- 
sitive an  emotion.  Therefore  after  leaving 
school,  and  even  since  her  marriage,  Anna 
Michkilovna  had  felt  no  inclination  to  renew 
her  musical  studies.  But  now,  as  she  listened 
to  the  piper,  she  was  conscious  that  in  addi- 
tion to  the  emotion  of  jealousy  a  sense  of 
appreciation  and  feeling  for  the  living  melody 
had   sprung  up  in  her  soul,  and  the  image   of 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  6  I 

the  German  Fraulein  was  almost  forgotten. 
The  result  of  this  was  that  Pani  Popelska  re- 
quested her  husband  to  send  to  town  for  an 
upright  piano. 

"  If  you  wish  it,  my  dove,"  rephed  the  exem- 
plary husband.  "  I  thought  you  did  not  care 
much  about  music." 

That  same  day  a  letter  was  sent  to  town ;  but 
several  weeks  must  elapse  before  the  instrument 
could  arrive  in  the  country. 

Meanwhile  the  same  harmonious  strains  pro- 
ceeded from  the  stable  evening  after  evening ; 
and  the  boy,  who  had  ceased  to  ask  his  mother's 
permission,  hurried  eagerly  thither  at  the  proper 
time.  With  the  customary  odor  of  the  stable 
was  mingled  the  fragrance  of  the  hay  and  the 
pungent  smell  of  the  leather  harnesses ;  and 
whenever  the  piper  paused  for  a  moment  one 
could  hear  the  faint  rustling  of  the  wisps  of  hay 
which  the  horses,  quietly  munching,  pulled 
through  the  bars,  and  also  the  whispering  of  the 
green  beeches  in  the  garden.     In  the  midst  of 


б2 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


all  this  Petrik  ^  sat  listening  like  one  enchanted. 
He  never  interrupted  the  musician ;  but  once 
when  the  latter  had  been  resting,  and  several 
minutes  had  passed  in  absolute  silence,  the 
charmed  influence  that  possessed  the  boy  gave 
way  to  a  passionate  yearning.  He  reached  to 
grasp  the  pipe,  took  it  in  his  trembling  hands, 
and  carried  it  to  his  lips.  Gasping  for  breath, 
his  first  notes  were  faint  and  tremulous,  but 
by  slow  degrees  he  gained  a  certain  mastery 
over  the  simple  instrument.  Joachim  placed 
the  boy's  fingers  on  the  holes,  and  although 
the  tiny  hand  could  hardly  grasp  them,  he 
had  very  soon  mastered  the  notes  of  the  scale. 
Every  note  possessed  to  him  an  individuality 
of  its  own ;  he  knew  in  which  opening  he 
should  find  each  of  these  tones,  whence  to 
bring  it  forth ;  and  at  times  when  Joachim 
was  quietly  and  slowly  playing  some  simple 
melody,  the  blind  boy's  fingers  would  imi- 
tate his  movements.     As    tone    followed    tone, 

1  Diminutive  of  Peter.  —  Tr. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  d^i 

he  seemed  to  know  exactly   from    which   hole 
each  one  came. 

VII. 

At  last,  after  three  weeks  had  gone  by,  the 
piano  was  brought  from  town.  Petya  ^  stood  in 
the  yard  and  listened  attentively,  in  order  to 
discover  how  the  workmen  hurrying  to  and  fro 
would  carry  "  the  music "  into  the  rooms. 
Surely  it  must  be  very  heavy,  for  when  they 
lifted  it  down  from  the  cart  there  was  a  creak- 
ing noise,  and  also  much  groaning  and  puffing 
among  the  men.  And  now  he  could  hear  their 
heavy,  measured  tread ;  and  at  every  step  there 
was  a  jarring,  a  rumbling,  and  a  ringing  above 
their  heads.  When  this  strange  music  was 
placed  on  the  drawing-room  floor,  it  again  sent 
forth  a  dull  rumbling  sound  like  the  threatening 
tones  of  an  angry  voice. 

All  this  alarmed  the  boy  and  by  no  means 
attracted  him  toward    this  new  guest,  at  once 

1  Diminutive  of  Peter. — Tr. 


б4  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

inanimate  and  wrathful.  He  went  into  the 
garden,  and  thus  he  missed  hearing  them  set 
up  the  instrument ;  neither  did  he  know  when 
the  tuner,  who  had  arrived  from  town,  tuned  it 
with  his  tuning-hammer,  tried  the  key-board, 
and  tightened  the  wires.  It  was  not  until  all 
was  in  readiness  that  the  mother  ordered  Petya 
to  be  brought  into  the  room. 

With  the  best  Vienna  instrument  as  an  aux- 
iliary, Anna  Michkilovna  felt  confident  of  victory 
over  the  simple  rustic  pipe.  Now  her  Petya  is 
to  forget  the  stable  and  the  piper,  and  she  will 
once  more  become  the  source  of  all  his  joys. 
She  glanced  merrily  at  her  boy  as  he  timidly 
entered  the  room,  accompanied  by  Uncle 
Maxim  and  Joachim ;  the  latter,  having  asked 
leave  to  listen  to  the  foreign  music,  with  down- 
cast eyes  and  overhanging  forelock  now  stood 
bashfully  in  the  doorway.  Just  as  Uncle  Maxim 
and  Petya  seated  themselves  on  the  lounge 
Anna  suddenly  struck  the  keys  of  the  i:)iano. 
She  played  the  piece  that  she  had  learned  to 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  65 

perfection  at  the  pension  of  Pani  Radetzka,  un- 
der the  instruction  of  Fraulein  Klapps.  It  was 
not  a  particularly  brilliant  piece,  but  quite  com- 
plicated, and  one  that  required  a  certain  amount 
of  dexterous  fingering ;  at  the  public  examina- 
tion Anna  Michailovna  gained  much  praise,  both 
for  herself  and  her  teacher,  by  the  playing  of 
this  piece.  No  one  positively  knew,  but  many 
surmised,  that  the  silent  Pan  Popelski  was  first 
charmed  with  Pani  Yatzenko  during  the  identi- 
cal quarter  of  an  hour  required  for  the  perform- 
ance of  her  difficult  music.  Now  the  young 
woman  played  it  with  the  view  of  winning  a 
second  victory :  she  wished  to  bind  still  more 
closely  to  herself  her  son's  young  heart,  enticed 
away  from  her  by  the  pipe  of  the  Hohol. 

But  the  fond  mother's  hope  was  doomed  to 
disappointment ;  the  Vienna  instrument  proved 
no  match  for  the  willow  twig  of  Ukraine.  True, 
the  piano  from  Vienna  was  rich  in  resources,  — 
expensive  wood,  fine  strings,  the  skilled  work- 
manship of  a  Vienna  arti-san,  and  all  the  wealth 

5 


66  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

of  its  wide  musical  range  ;  but  the  pipe  of  the 
Ukraine  had  alUes  of  its  own,  —  it  was  in  its 
native  haunts,  surrounded  by  its  own  Ukraine 
nature.  Before  Joachim  had  cut  it  with  his 
knife  and  burned  out  its  heart  with  red-hot  iron, 
it  had  swung  to  and  fro  above  the  river,  so  dear 
to  the  boy's  heart ;  it  had  been  caressed  by  the 
sun  of  the  Ukraine,  and  fanned  by  its  breezes 
until  the  keen  eye  of  the  piper  had  caught  sight 
of  it  overhanging  the  precipice,  •  The  foreign 
visitor  had  but  a  slender  chance  against  the 
simple  native  pipe,  whose  tones  had  first  been 
heard  by  the  boy  at  the  peaceful  hour  of  bed- 
time, through  the  mysterious  rustling  of  the 
night  and  the  murmuring  of  the  green  beech- 
trees,  with  all  the  well-known  voices  of  Nature 
in  the  Ukraine  that  found  an  echo  within  his 
soul. 

There  could,  moreover,  be  no  fair  comparison 
between  Pani  Popelska  and  Joachim.  Her  fin- 
gers, it  is  true,  were  more  dextrous  and  flexible ; 
the  melody  she    played  was  richer  and   more 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


67 


complex ;  and  Fraulein  Klapps  had  labored  dili- 
gently to  make  her  pupil  mistress  of  this  difficult 
instrument.  But  Joachim  had  the  true  musical 
instinct.  He  had  loved  also,  and  sorrowed ; 
and  animated  by  these  emotions,  he  sought  his 
themes  in  the  surrounding  Nature,  and  there  he 
found  his  simple  melodies,  —  the  soughing  of 
the  forest,  the  gentle  whisper  of  the  grass  upon 
the  steppes,  the  sad,  old,  national  melodies  that 
he  had  heard  sung  over  his  crib  when  he  was  an 
infant. 

The  instrument  from.  Vienna  had  truly  but  a 
slender  chance  against  the  magic  of  the  Hohol's 
pipe.  Not  more  than  a  minute  had  passed 
before  Uncle  Maxim  with  sudden  energy  rapped 
on  the  floor  with  his  crutch.  When  Anna 
Michailovna  turned  toward  him,  she  saw  on 
Petrik's  pale  face  the  same  expression  it  had 
worn  as  he  lay  upon  the  grass  on  the  memor- 
able day  of  their  first  spring  walk.  Joachim  in 
his  turn  looked  sympathetically  at  the  boy,  then 
with  one  disdainful  glance  at  the  German  music 


68  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

he   left  the   room,   his  heavy  boots  resounding 
across  the  drawing-room  floor. 


VIII. 

Many  a  tear  and  no  shght  mortification  did 
this  failure  cost  the  poor  mother.  She,  "  the 
gracious  Pani  Popelska,"  who  had  been  ap- 
plauded by  a  ''select  audience,"  to  find  herself 
so  utterly  defeated,  —  and  by  whom  ?  By'  a 
common  stable-boy,  Joachim,  with  his  absurd 
pipe  !  As  she  remembered  the  disdainful 
glance  of  the  Hohol  when  her  unsuccessful  con- 
cert came  to  an  end,  an  angry  blush  overspread 
her  face,  and  she  felt  an  actual  hatred  for  the 
"  detestable  fellow."  But  every  evening  when 
her  boy  hastened  to  the  stable,  she  would  open 
the  window,  rest  her  elbows  on  the  sill,  and 
listen  intently.  At  first  it  was  with  a  feeling  of 
angry  disdain  that  she  sought  to  catch  that 
"  stupid  squeaking  ;  "  but  gradually,  —  she  knew 
not  how  it  came  to  pass,  —  the  "  stupid  squeak- 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  69 

ing  "  had  taken  possession  of  her  soul,  and  she 
found  herself  eagerly  devouring  those  mournful 
and  pathetic  strains.  When  she  woke  to  a 
realizing  sense  of  this,  she  began  to  wonder 
whence  came  their  fascination,  their  enchanting 
mystery;  and  by  degrees,  the  bluish  dusk  of 
evening,  the  vague  shadows  of  the  night,  and 
the  harmony  existing  between  those  melodies 
and  Nature  revealed  the  secret.  No  longer  re- 
sisting the  attraction,  she  confessed  to  herself,  — 

"  Yes,  I  must  admit  that  this  humble  music 
does  possess  a  rare  and  genuine  feeling,  —  a 
bewitching  poetry  not  to  be  acquired  by  notes." 

This  was  indeed  true.  The  secret  of  this 
poetry  might  be  found  in  the  intimate  relation 
between  Nature  and  those  memories  of  the  past 
of  which  it  was  ever  whispering  to  the  human 
heart.  Joachim,  the  rude  peasant,  with  his 
greasy  boots  and  calloused  hands,  possessed 
that  harmonious,  that  keen  feeling  for  Nature. 

Then  the  mother  became  aware  that  her 
haughty  spirit  had  succumbed  before  the  stable- 


70 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


boy.       She   no  longer  remembered    his  coarse 
garments,  redolent  of  tar ;  but  the  pleasmg  mod- 
ulations of  the  songs  recalled   to  mind  his  kind 
face,  the   mild  expression  of  his   gray  eyes,  and 
the  bashful,  humorous  smile  that  lurked  under  the 
long  mustache.    Yet  again  the  angry  color  rose, 
overspreading  the  face  and  temples  of  the  young 
woman  :   she  was  conscious  that  in  this  struggle 
for  her  child's  admiration  she  had  placed   her- 
self on  a  level  with  this  "  varlet,"  and  that  he, 
"  the  varlet,"  had  conquered.     The  whispering 
trees  in  the   garden  high  above  her  head,  the 
light  of  the  stars  in  the  dark-blue  sky,  the  violet 
mist    that    shrouded    the    earth,    together   with 
Joachim's  melodies,  all  contributed   to   fill  the 
mother's   soul    with    gentle    melancholy.       Her 
spirit  yielded    itself    in  meek  submission,    and 
entered  more  and  more  deeply  into  the  mystery 
of  that  pure,  direct,  and  simple  poetry  of  Nature. 
Yes,  the  peasant  Joachim  had  the  true,  living 
feeling  !   And  how  was  it  with  the  mother  her- 
self?   Was  she  entirely  devoid  of  that  feeling? 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  ^I 

Why  then  did  her  heart  beat  so  wildly,  and  why 
did  the  tears  rise  to  her  eyes?  Did  not  her 
emotion  spring  from  her  devoted  love  for  her 
unfortunate  blind  child,  who  left  her  for  Joachim 
because  she  failed  to  give  him  as  keen  a  pleasure 
as  the  latter?  She  remembered  the  expression 
of  distress  on  the  boy's  face  caused  by  her  play- 
ing, and  hot  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes  ;  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  she  controlled  her  suffocating 
sobs. 

The  poor  mother  !  It  seemed  as  if  an  incu- 
rable malady  had  settled  upon  her,  revealing  its 
presence  by  an  exaggerated  tenderness  at  every 
manifestation  of  suffering  on  the  part  of  the 
child,  and  a  mysterious  sympathy  which  by  a 
thousand  invisible  chords  bound  her  aching 
heart  to  his.  For  this  reason,  the  strange  ri- 
valry between  herself  and  the  Hohol  piper, 
which  in  a  woman  of  different  nature  would 
merely  have  stirred  a  feeling  of  annoyance,  be- 
came for  her  a  source  of  bitter,  exaggerated 
suffering. 


72 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


Thus  time  went  on,  without  bringing  the  fond 
mother  any  apparent  reHef;  and  yet  she  was 
gradually  gaining  a  certain  advantage.  She  be- 
gan to  feel  within  her  own  breast  an  influx  of 
melody  and  poetry,  not  unlike  that  which  had  at- 
tracted her  in  the  playing  of  the  Hohol.  Hope, 
too,  sprang  up  in  her  heart.  Under  the  in- 
fluence of  this  sudden  access  of  confidence  she 
approached  the  piano  several  times,  and  opened 
it,  intending  to  overpower  the  low-voiced  pipe 
by  harmonious  chords.  But  every  time  a  sense 
of  irresolution  and  timidity  restrained  her.  She 
remembered  her  boy's  distressed  face,  and  the 
disdainful  glance  of  the  Hohol ;  and  dark  as  it 
was,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  shame,  while  with 
timid  wistfulness  she  let  her  hands  flutter  over 
the  keys. 

Still,  day  by  day  an  inner  consciousness  of  her 
own  power  grew  within  the  woman's  heart ; 
and  choosing  the  time  when  her  boy  was  play- 
ing in  the  evening  in  some  remote  garden-path, 
or  perhaps  out  for  a  walk,  she  would  seat  herself 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


73 


at  the  piano.  At  first  her  attempts  were  unsat- 
isfactory ;  her  hands  seemed  powerless  to  evoke 
a  response  to  her  conception,  and  the  tones  of 
the  instrument  failed  to  interpret  her  emotions. 
But  soon  she  perceived  that  the  ease  and  free- 
dom with  which  she  could  express  her  feelings 
through  the  medium  of  those  tones  were  grad- 
ually increasing.  The  Hohol's  lessons  had  not 
been  without  avail ;  while  the  mother's  love,  and 
an  intuitive  perception  of  the  potent  charm  that 
swayed  the  heart  of  her  boy  helped  her  to  profit 
by  them.  Her  difficult  and  brilliant  themes  had 
given  place  lo  pensive  songs ;  the  sad  Ukraine 
''  meditation"  echoed  in  plaintive  tones  through 
the  dimly  lighted  rooms,  adding  a  tenderness  to 
the  mother's  heart. 

At  last  she  gained  confidence  to  enter  into  an 
open  contest ;  and  one  evening  a  strange  com- 
bat went  on  between  the  manor  and  the  stable. 
From  the  shaded  barn  with  its  overhanging 
thatch,  gently  quivering,  came  the  trills  of  the 
pipe,  while  advancing  to  the  encounter  from  the 


74 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


open  windows  of  the  mansion,  glittering  in  the 
moonhght  through  the  leaves  of  the  beech- 
trees,  echoed  the  full  ringing  chords  of  the 
piano.  At  first  neither  the  boy  nor  Joachim, 
prejudiced  as  they  were,  deigned  to  pay  any  at- 
tention to  the  "  learned  "  music  of  the  mansion. 
The  boy  even  frowned  when  Joachim  paused, 
and  impatiently  urged  him  on,  saying, — 
"  Come,  play  !  Go  on  playing  !  " 
Three  days  had  not  gone  by  when  these 
pauses  grew  more  and  more  frequent.  Joachim 
often  laid  his  pipe  aside  to  listen,  and  the  boy, 
forgetting  to  urge  his  friend,  listened  also. 
Finally  Joachim  said  in  a  dreamy  sort  of  way, 
"  That  is  fine  !  Listen  !  that  is  a  fine  thing  !  " 
And  then  in  his  dreamy,  absent-minded  way 
he  took  the  boy  in  his  arms  and  carried  him 
through  the  garden  to  the  open  window  of  the 
drawing-room. 

Joachim  supposed  that  the  '^gracious  Pani " 
was  playing  for  her  own  amusement,  and  would 
take  no  notice  of  them.     But  Anna  Michailovna 


ГНЕ  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  75 

had  become  aware  that  her  rival,  the  pipe,  had 
been  silenced ;  she  realized  her  victory,  and  her 
heart  beat  with  pride  and  joy.  Moreover,  her 
displeasure  with  Joachim  had  entirely  vanished. 
She  knew  that  she  owed  her  present  happiness 
to  him,  —  he  had  shown  her  how  to  regain  the 
devotion  of  her  child  ;  and  if  her  boy  were  now 
to  receive  from  her  new  and  valuable  impress- 
ions, they  would  both  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude 
to  their  teacher,  the  peasant  piper. 


IX. 

The  ice  was  broken.  On  the  following  day 
the  boy  with  timid  curiosity  came  into  the  draw- 
ing-room, where  he  had  not  been  since  the  new 
city  guest  —  that  angry,  loud-voiced  creature  — 
had  taken  possession  of  the  room.  But  yester- 
day he  heard  the  guest  sing  a  song  that  pleased 
his  ear,  and  gave  him  cause  to  change  his  opin- 
ion of  the  instrument.  With  the  last  linger- 
ing traces  of  his  former  timidity  he  drew  near 


7 б  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

the  spot  where  the  piano  stood;  and  stopping 
at  a  short  distance  from  it,  he  Ustened.  There 
was  no  one  in  the  drawing-room.  His  mother 
sat  on  a  sofa  in  the  adjoining  room,  sewing ; 
she  held  her  breath  as  she  watched  him,  admir- 
ing every  movement,  every  change  of  expression 
on  his  sensitive  face. 

Putting  out  his  hand,  the  bhnd  boy  touched 
the  pohshed  surface  of  the  piano ;  then  over- 
come by  bashfubiess,  he  immediately  withdrew 
it.  Having  twice  repeated  this  experiment  he 
drew  nearer,  and  began  a  careful  examination 
of  the  instrument,  stooping  to  the  floor  to  pass 
his  hand  over  the  legs,  and  feeling  his  way  as 
far  around  its  sides  as  he  could  go.  At  last  his 
hand  touched  the  smooth  key-board  :  the  soft 
reverberation  of  the  string  vibrated  uncertainly 
on  the  air.  The  boy  listened  to  this  vibration 
long  after  it  had  ceased  to  be  audible  to  his 
mother ;  then  with  a  look  of  intense  interest  he 
touched  another  key.  Presently,  as  he  drew 
his  hand  along  the  key-board,  he  happened  to 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  77 

touch  a  note  of  the  upper  register;  then  he 
touched  every  note,  one  after  the  other,  and 
paused  to  Usten  as  they  vibrated  in  trembhng 
cadence  and  were  lost  in  the  air.  The  face  of 
the  bUnd  boy  wore  an  expression  of  mingled 
attention  and  delight ;  he  evidently  enjoyed 
every  separate  tone,  and  by  this  sensitive  obser- 
vation of  each  elementary  sound  as  component 
parts  of  melodies  yet  unborn,  the  future  artist 
might  be  divined. 

But  it  seemed  as  if  each  note  possessed  for 
the  blind  boy  an  attribute  peculiar  to  itself. 
When  beneath  the  pressure  of  his  finger  a  bril- 
liant note  of  the  upper  register  rang  out,  a  glow 
would  come  upon  his  face,  uplifted  as  if  to  fol- 
low the  ringing  note  in  its  upward  flight ;  but 
when  he  touched  a  deep  bass-note,  he  stooped 
to  listen, —  seeming  to  feel  sure  that  the  heavy 
note  must  be  rolling  along  the  ground,  scatter- 
ing itself  all  over  the  floor,  to  be  finally  lost  in 
the  corners. 


78  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

X. 

Uncle  Maxim  simply  tolerated  all  these  musi- 
cal experiments.  Strange  though  it  may  seem, 
the  inclinations  which  had  so  unmistakably  man- 
ifested themselves  in  the  boy  excited  mingled 
emotions  in  the  breast  of  the  old  soldier.  On 
the  one  hand,  this  intense  passion  for  music 
indicated  the  boy's  inherent  musical  talent,  and 
foreshadowed  a  possible  career ;  but  in  spite  of 
this,  a  vague  sense  of  disappointment  filled  Uncle 
Maxim's  heart. 

"  It  cannot  be  denied,"  thus  ran  Maxim's 
thoughts,  "  that  music  is  a  power  by  which  a 
man  may  sway  the  hearts  of  the  multitude.  He, 
the  blind  man,  will  attract  dandies  and  fashion- 
able women  by  the  hundreds,  will  play  a  valse 
or  a  nocturne,"  —  here  Uncle  Maxim's  musical 
vocabulary  came  suddenly  to  an  end,  —  "  and 
they  will  wipe  away  their  tears  with  their  delicate 
handkerchiefs.  Ah,  the  deuce  take  it  !  that  is 
not  what  I   could  have  wished  for    him.     But 


THE    BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


79 


what's  to  be  done  about  it?  The  fellow  is 
blind ;  he  must  do  what  he  can  with  his  life. 
But  if  it  had  only  been  singing  !  A  song  speaks 
not  alone  to  the  fastidious  ear,  —  it  excites  fan- 
cies, arouses  thoughts  in  the  mind,  and  kindles 
courage  in  the  heart." 

"  Look  here,  Joachim,"  Uncle  Maxim  said 
one  evening,  as  he  followed  the  blind  boy  into 
the  stable,  ''  do  for  once  stop  that  whistling  ! 
It  might  do  well  enough  for  a  street  urchin,  or 
for  the  shepherd  boy  in  the  field  ;  but  you  are 
a  grown-up  peasant,  although  that  silly  Marya 
has  made  a  calf  of  you.  Fie  !  I  am  really 
ashamed  of  you  !  The  lass  proved  hard-hearted, 
and  that  has  made  you  so  soft  that  you  whistle 
like  a  quail  caught  in  a  net." 

As  he  listened  in  the  darkness  to  this  sharp 
tirade  from  the  Pan,  Joachim  smiled  at  his  un- 
necessary indignation.  But  he  did  feel  some- 
what wounded  by  his  allusion  to  the  street 
urchin  and  the  shepherd  boy,  and  replied,  — 

''  Don't  say  that,  Pan  1     Not  a  shepherd  in 


8o  I^HE    BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

the  Ukraine  has  a  pipe  like  that,  let  alone  the 
shepherd  boy.  Theirs  are  nothing  but  whistles ; 
but  mine  —  just  listen!"  He  closed  all  the 
openings  with  his  fingers,  and  struck  the  two 
notes  of  the  octave,  drinking  in  as  he  did  so 
the  fullness  of  the  tones. 

Maxim  spat.  *'  The  Lord  have  mercy  on  us, 
the  lad  has  lost  his  wits  !  What  do  I  care  for 
your  pipe  ?  They  are  all  alike,  both  pipes  and 
women,  with  your  Marya  into  the  bargain  ! 
You  had  better  sing  us  a  song,  if  you  know 
how,  —  a  good  song  of  our  fathers'  or  grand- 
fathers.' " 

Maxim  Yatzenko,  a  Little  Russian  himself, 
was  simple  and  unassuming  in  his  manners 
toward  peasants  and  servants.  Although  he 
often  scolded  and  shouted  at  them,  he  never 
hurt  any  man's  feelings ;  and  while  his  inferiors 
were  on  familiar  terms  with  him,  they  never 
failed  to  treat  him  with  respect.  Hence  to  the 
Pan's  request,  Joachim  replied,  — 

"  Why  not  ?     I  used  to  sing  as  well  as  the 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  8 1 

next  man.  But,  Pan,  do  you  think  our  peas- 
ant songs  are  likely  to  please  you?"  he  asked, 
slightly  sarcastic. 

"  Eh,  what  nonsense,  fellow  !  "  replied  Maxim. 
"  A  pipe  cannot  be  compared  with  a  good  song, 
if  only  a  man  can  sing  well.  Let  us  listen  to 
Joachim's  song,  Petriasya.  But  only  you  may 
not  understand  it,  my  boy." 

"  Is  it  to  be  a  peasant's  song?  "  inquired  the 
boy.     "  I  understand  their  language." 

Maxim  heaved  a  sigh.  "  Ah,  my  dear  boy, 
these  are  not  slave  songs ;  they  are  the  songs  of 
a  strong  and  free  people.  Your  mother's  an- 
cestors sang  them  on  the  steppes  of  the  Dnieper, 
the  Danube,  and  the  Black  Sea,  Well,  you 
will  understand  them  sooner  or  later,  but  just 
now  I  am  anxious  about  something  else." 

In  point  of  fact,  what  Maxim  really  feared 
was  that  the  picturesque  language  of  the  folk- 
songs would  not  appeal  to  the  vaguely  obscure 
mind  of  the  child ;  he  felt  that  the  animated 
music  of  epic  song  must  be  interpreted  to  the 

6 


82  THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

heart  by  familiar  images.  He  forgot  that  the 
old  bards,  the  singers  and  bandur-players  of  the 
Ukraine,  were  for  the  most  part  bhnd  men, 
who  had  been  driven  by  misfortune  or  physical 
incapacity  to  the  lyre,  or  bandur,  to  gain  their 
daily  bread.  It  is  true  that  these  men  were  but 
beggars  and  artisans  with  harsh  voices,  some  of 
whom  had  not  become  blind  until  they  were  old 
men.  Blindness  wraps  the  outer  world  about 
with  a  dark  veil,  which  likewise  envelops  the 
brain,  entangling  and  impeding  its  processes ; 
and  yet  by  the  aid  of  inherited  conceptions 
and  impressions  gained  from  other  sources, 
the  brain  creates  in  this  darkness  a  world  of 
its  own,  sad,  gloomy,  and  sombre,  but  not 
devoid  of  a  vague  poetry  peculiar  to  itself. 

Maxim  and  the  blind  boy  seated  themselves 
on  the  hay,  while  Joachim  reclined  on  his 
bench,  —  a  position  which  seemed  especially 
conducive  to  his  artistic  efforts,  —  and  after 
musing  for  a  moment  he  began  to  sing. 
Whether  by  chance  or  by  instinct,  his  choice 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  83 

was   a   happy    one.     He    selected    a    historical 
picture,  — 

"  Over  yonder  on  the  hill  the  reapers  are  reaping." 

No  one  who  has  heard  this  beautiful  song 
well  rendered  can  ever  forget  its  strange  mel- 
ody,—  high-pitched  and  plaintive,  as  though 
oppressed  by  the  sadness  of  historical  reminis- 
cence. It  contains  no  stirring  incidents,  no 
bloody  battles  or  exploits ;  neither  is  it  the  fare- 
well of  a  Cossack  to  his  beloved,  nor  a  daring 
invasion,  nor  a  naval  expedition  on  the  blue  sea 
or  the  Danube.  It  is  but  a  fleeting  picture  that 
comes  uppermost  in  the  memory  of  a  Little  Rus- 
sian, like  a  vague  revery,  like  the  fragment  of  a 
dream  from  an  historic  past.  In  the  midst  of 
his  monotonous,  every-day  life  that  picture  rises 
before  his  imagination,  its  outlines  dim  and  in- 
distinct, steeped  in  the  strange  melancholy  that 
breathes  from  bygone  days,  —  days  that  have 
left  their  impress  on  the  memory  of  man.  The 
lofty  burial-mounds  beneath  which  lie  the  bones 


84  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

of  the  Cossacks,  where  fires  are  seen  burning  at 
midnight,  where  groans  are  sometimes  heard, 
still  remind  us  of  the  past.  The  popular  le- 
gends as  well  as  the  folk-songs,  now  fast  dying 
out,  also  tell  us  of  the  past. 

"  Over  yonder  on  the  In'll  the  reapers  are  reaping, 
And  beneath  the  hill,  the  green  hill, 
Cossacks  are  passing, 
Cossacks  are  passing  ! 
They  are  reaping   on  the  hill,  while    below  the 
troops  are  marching." 

Maxim  Yatzenko  was  lost  in  admiration  of 
the  sad  song.  That  charming  melody,  so  well 
suited  to  the  words,  called  up  before  his  fancy 
a  scene  illumined  by  the  melancholy  rays  of 
sunset.  Along  the  peaceful  slopes  of  the  hill- 
sides he  seemed  to  see  the  bowed  and  silent 
figures  of  the  reapers,  and  below  moving  noise- 
lessly, one  after  the  other,  the  ranks  of  the 
army,  blending  with  the  shades  of  evening  in 
the  valley. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  85 

"  Doroshenko^  at  the  head, 
Leading  his  army,  his  Zaporog  army 
Gallantly." 

And  the  prolonged  note  of  the  epic  song  re- 
sounds, vibrates,  and  dies  away  upon  the  air, 
only  to  start  forth  anew,  evoking  fresh  images 
from  the  dim  twilight.  These  were  the  pictures 
which  at  the  bidding  of  the  song  took  form  in 
Uncle  Maxim's  mind ;  and  the  blind  boy,  who 
had  listened  with  a  sad  and  clouded  face,  was 
also  impressed  by  it  after  his  own  fashion. 

When  the  singer  sang  of  the  hill  where  the 
reapers  were  reaping,  Petrusya  was  straightway 
transported  in  his  imagination  to  the  summit 
of  the  familiar  cliff.  He  recognizes  it  by  the 
faint  plashing  of  the  river  against  the  stones  be- 
low. He  knows  very  well  what  reapers  are,  — 
he  has  heard  the  ringing  sound  of  the  sickles 
and  the  rustle  of  the  falling  ears.  But  when  the 
song  went  on  to  describe  the  action  under  the 

1  A  famous  leader  of  Cossacks. 


86  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

hill,  the  imagination  of  the  blind  listener  at  once 
transported  him  into  the  valley  below.  Though 
he  no  longer  hears  the  sound  of  the  sickles,  the 
boy  knows  that  the  reapers  are  still  up  there  on 
the  hill,  and  he  knows  that  the  sound  has  died 
away,  because  they  are  so  high  above  him,  — 
as  high  as  the  pine-trees,  whose  rustling  he 
hears  when  he  stands  on  the  cliff;  and  below, 
over  the  river,  echoes  the  rapid  monotonous 
tramp  of  the  horses'  hoofs.  There  are  many 
of  them,  and  an  indistinct  murmur  rises  through 
the  darkness  from  under  the  hill.  Those  are 
the  Cossacks  "  on  the  march." 

Petriisya  also  knows  what  ''  Cossacks  "  means. 
The  Cossack  Hveydka,^  who  sometimes  stops 
at  the  house,  is  called  by  everybody  "  the  old 
Cossack."  Many  a  time  has  he  lifted  Petrusya 
to  his  lap  and  smoothed  his  hair  with  his  trem- 
bling hand.  When  the  boy  according  to  his 
custom  felt  of  his  face,  he  found  deep  wrinkles 
under    his    sensitive    fingers,   a   long,    drooping 

1   A  corruption  of  Feydor  :  Theodore. — Tr. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN 


87 


mustache  and  sunken  cheeks,  and  on  those 
cheeks  the  tears  of  old  age.  It  was  such  Cos- 
sacks as  he  that  the  boy  pictured  to  himself 
marching  below  the  hill.  They  are  on  horse- 
back, and  like  Hveydka  they  wear  long  mus- 
taches, and  are  old  and  wrinkled  too.  These 
vague  forms  advance  slowly  amid  the  darkness, 
and  like  Hveydka  are  weeping  for  grief.  It 
may  be  that  the  echo  of  Joachim's  song  sug- 
gests the  lament  of  the  unfortunate  Cossack 
who  exchanged  his  young  wife  for  a  camp-bed 
and  the  hardships  of  a  campaign,  as  it  rings 
over  hill  and  valley. 

One  glance  was  enough  for  Maxim  to  dis- 
cover that  despite  the  boy's  blindness  the  poetic 
images  of  the  song  appealed  to  his  sensitive 
nature. 


•THE-riRST- 


^^  ^ni3  In  pursuance  of  the  system 
which  by  Maxim's  influence  had  been  estab- 
lished, the  bhnd  boy  had  as  far  as  possible 
been  left  to  his  own  resources;  and  from  this 
system  the  best  results  had  ensued.  In  the 
house  he  showed  no  signs  of  helplessness,  but 
moved  from  place  to  place  without  faltering; 
took  care  of  his  own  room,  and  kept  his  be- 
longings and  his  toys  in  order.  Neither  did 
Maxim     by  any    means     neglect    physical    ex- 


92 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


ercises ;  the  boy  had  his  regular  gymnastics, 
and  in  his  sixth  year  Maxim  presented  his 
nephew  with  a  gentle  little  horse.  At  first 
the  mother  could  not  believe  it  possible  that 
her  blind  child  could  ride  on  horseback,  and 
she  called  her  brother's  scheme  ''  perfect  mad- 
ness." But  the  old  soldier  exerted  his  utmost 
influence  and  in  two  or  three  months  the  boy 
was  galloping  merrily  side  by  side  with  Joa- 
chim, who  directed  him  only  at  turnings. 

Thus  blindness  proved  no  drawback  to  sys- 
tematic physical  development,  while  its  influence 
over  the  moral  nature  of  the  child  was  reduced 
to  its  minimum.  He  was  tall  for  his  age  and 
well  built ;  his  face  was  somewhat  pale,  his  fea- 
tures fine  and  expressive.  His  dark  hair  en- 
hanced the  pallid  hue  of  his  complexion,  while 
his  eyes  —  large,  dark,  and  almost  motionless  — 
gave  him  a  peculiar  aspect  that  at  once  attracted 
attention.  A  slight  wrinkle  between  his  eye- 
brows, a  habit  of  inclining  his  head  slightly 
forward,    and   the    expression    of  sadness    that 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  93 

sometimes  overcast  his  handsome  face,  —  these 
were  the  outward  tokens  of  his  bhndness.  When 
surrounded  by  famihar  objects  he  moved  read- 
ily and  without  restraint ;  but  still  it  was  evi- 
dent that  his  instinctive  vivacity  was  repressed, 
and  it  was  only  by  certain  fitful  outbursts  of  ner- 
vous excitement  that  it  was  ever  manifested. 


II. 

The  impressions  received  through  the  channels 
of  sound  outweighed  all  others  in  their  influence 
over  the  life  of  the  blind  boy ;  his  ideas  shaped 
themselves  according  to  sounds,  his  sense  of 
hearing  became  the  centre  of  his  mental  activity. 
The  enchanting  melodies  of  the  songs  he  heard 
conveyed  to  him  a  true  sense  of  the  words, 
coloring  them  with  sadness  or  joy  according  to 
the  lights  and  shades  of  the  melody.  With 
still  closer  attention  he  listened  to  the  voices  of 
Nature  ;  and  by  uniting  these  confused  impres- 
sions with  the  familiar  melodies,  he  sometimes 


94 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


produced  a  free  improvisation,  in  which  it  was 
difficult  to  distinguish  just  where  the  national 
and  familiar  air  ended  and  the  work  of  the  com- 
poser began.  He  himself  was  unable  to  dis- 
tinguish these  two  elements  in  his  songs,  so 
inseparably  were  the  two  united  within  him. 
He  quickly  learned  all  his  mother  taught  him  on 
the  piano,  and  yet  he  still  loved  Joachim's  pipe. 
The  tones  of  the  piano  were  richer,  deeper,  and 
more  brilliant ;  but  the  instrument  was  station- 
ary, whereas  the  pipe  he  could  carry  with  him 
into  the  fields ;  and  its  modulations  were  so  in- 
distinguishably  blended  with  the  gentle  sighs  of 
the  steppe,  that  at  times  Petrusya  could  not  tell 
whether  those  vague  fancies  were  wafted  on  the 
wind,  or  whether  it  was  he  himself  who  drew 
them  from  his  pipe. 

Petrusya' s  enthusiasm  for  music  became  the 
centre  of  his  mental  growth  ;  it  absorbed  his 
mind,  and  lent  variety  to  his  quiet  life.  Maxim 
availed  himself  of  it  to  make  the  boy  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  his  native  land  ;  and  like  a 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  95 

vast  network  of  sounds,  the  procession  filed 
before  the  imagination  of  the  bhnd  boy. 
Touched  by  the  song,  he  learned  to  know  the 
heroes  of  whom  it  sung,  and  to  feel  a  concern 
for  their  fate  and  for  the  destiny  of  his  country. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  his  interest  in  litera- 
ture ;  and  when  he  was  nine  years  old,  Maxim 
began  his  first  lessons.  He  had  been  studying 
the  methods  used  in  the  instruction  of  the  blind, 
and  the  boy  showed  great  delight  in  the  lessons. 
They  introduced  into  his  nature  the  new  ele- 
ments of  precision  and  clearness,  which  served 
to  counterbalance  the  undefined  sensations  ex- 
cited by  music. 

Thus  the  boy's  day  was  filled  ;  he  could  not 
complain  of  the  lack  of  new  impressions. 
He  seemed  to  be  living  as  full  a  life  as 
any  child  could  possibly  live ;  in  fact  he 
really  seemed  unconscious  of  his  blindness. 
Nevertheless,  a  certain  premature  sadness  was 
still  perceptible  in  his  character,  which  Maxim 
ascribed  to  the  fact  that  he  had  never  mingled 


96  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

with  Other  children,  and  endeavored  to  atone 
for  this  omission. 

The  village  boys  who  were  invited  to  the 
mansion  were  timid  and  constrained.  Not  only 
the  unusual  surroundings,  but  the  blindness  of 
the  little  Pan  intimidated  them.  They  would 
glance  timidly  at  him,  and  then  crowding  to- 
gether would  whisper  to  one  another.  When 
the  children  were  left  alone,  either  in  the 
garden  or  in  the  field,  they  grew  bolder  and 
began  to  play  games ;  but  somehow  it  always 
ended  in  the  blind  boy  being  left  out,  listening 
sadly  to  the  merry  shouts  of  his  playmates.  Now 
and  then  Joachim  would  gather  the  children 
about  him  and  repeat  comical  old  proverbs  and 
tell  them  fairy  tales.  The  village  children,  per- 
fectly familiar  with  the  somewhat  stupid  Hohol 
devil  and  the  roguish  witches,  supplemented 
Joachim's  tales  from  the  stores  of  their  own 
knowledge ;  and  the  conversations  ensuing  were 
generally  quite  lively.  The  blind  boy  listened 
to  them  with  great  interest  and  attention,  but 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


97 


rarely  laughed.  He  seemed  incapable  of  com- 
prehending the  humor  in  the  speeches  and 
stories  he  heard ;  and  this  was  not  surprising, 
since  he  could  neither  see  the  merry  twinkle 
in  the  eyes  of  the  speakers,  nor  the  comi- 
cal wrinkles,  nor  the  twitching  of  the  long 
mustaches. 

III. 

Not  long  before  the  period  to  which  our  story 
relates,  the  "possessor"^  of  the  neighboring 
estate  had  been  changed.  The  former  neigh- 
bor, who  had  managed  to  engage  in  a  lawsuit 
even  with  the  taciturn  Pan  Popelski,  in  conse- 
quence of  some  damage  caused  to  the  fields, 
had  been  replaced  by  the  old  man  Yaskiilski  and 
his  wife.  Although  the  united  ages  of  this 
couple  amounted  to  one  hundred  years,  their 

1  The  system  of  leasing  estates  is  quite  prevalent  in 
the  southeast  of  Russia.  The  lessee,  known  by  the 
local  term  "possessor,"  governs  the  estate.  He  pays 
a  certain  sum  to  the  owners,  and  the  income  derived 
therefrom  depends  upon  his  own  enterprise. 

7 


98  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


marriage  had  been  celebrated  but  recently, 
because  Yakiib  was  for  a  long  time  unable  to 
procure  the  sum  required  for  hiring  an  estate, 
and  thus  was  forced  to  act  as  overseer  of  one 
estate  after  another,  while  Pani  Agnyeshka  spent 
her  period  of  waiting  as  a  sort  of  companion  in 
the  family  of  the  Countess  N.  When  at  last 
the  happy  moment  arrived,  and  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  stood  hand  in  hand  in  the  church, 
the  hair  of  the  handsome  bridegroom  was  fairly 
gray,  and  the  timid,  blushing  face  of  the  bride 
was  likewise  framed  in  silvery  locks. 

This  circumstance,  however,  by  no  means 
marred  the  married  happiness  of  the  somewhat 
late-wedded  pair,  and  the  fruit  of  their  love  was 
an  only  daughter  about  the  age  of  the  blind  boy. 
Having  won  for  themselves  a  domestic  shelter, 
where  under  certain  conditions  they  had  a  right 
to  full  control,  this  elderly  couple  began  a 
peaceful  and  quiet  existence,  which  seemed  like 
a  compensation  for  the  hard  years  of  toil  and 
anxiety  which  they  had  passed  in  other  folks' 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


99 


houses.  Their  first  lease  was  a  faikire,  and  they 
had  started  anew  on  a  somewhat  smaller  scale. 
But  in  this  new  abode  they  had  at  once  ar- 
ranged things  to  suit  themselves.  In  the  corner 
occupied  by  the  images,  decorated  with  ivy, 
sacred  palm,  and  a  wax  taper,^  the  old  lady 
kept  bags  filled  with  herbs  and  roots,  by  whose 
aid  she  doctored  her  husband  as  well  as  the 
peasants  who  came  to  consult  her.  These  herbs 
would  fill  the  hut  with  a  peculiarly  characteristic 
fragrance,  associated  in  the  minds  of  the  vil- 
lagers with  their  memory  of  that  neat  and  quiet 
little  house,  with  the  two  old  persons  who  dwelt 
therein,  and  whose  placid  existence  offered  so 
unusual  a  spectacle  in  times  like  these. 

Meanwhile  the  only  daughter  of  this  elderly 
pair  was  growing  up  in  their  companionship,  — 
a  girl  with  long  brown  tresses  and  blue  eyes, 
who  straightway  impressed  every  one  that  saw 
her  with  the  uncommon  maturity  of  her  face. 

^  This  wax  taper  is  lighted  during  severe  thunder- 
storms, and  is  also  placed  in  the  handsof  dying  people. 


lOO  THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  calm  love  of  the  parents, 
finding  fruition  so  late  in  life,  had  been  reflected 
in  their  daughter's  nature  by  a  mature  judg- 
ment, a  quiet  deliberation  in  all  her  movements, 
and  a  certain  pensive  expression  in  the  depths 
of  her  blue  eyes.  She  was  never  shy  with 
strangers,  willingly  made  the  acquaintance  of 
children  and  took  part  in  their  games,  —  which 
was  done  however  with  an  air  of  condescen- 
sion, as  if  she  herself  really  felt  no  interest  in 
the  matter.  She  was  in  fact  quite  happy  in  her 
own  society,  walking,  gathering  flowers,  talking 
to  her  doll,  —  and  all  so  demurely  that  one  felt 
as  if  in  the  presence  of  a  grown-up  woman 
rather  than  in  that  of  a  child. 


IV. 

One  evening  Petrusya  was  sitting  alone  on 
the  hillock  above  the  river.  The  sun  was  set- 
ting, the  air  was  still,  and  only  the  tranquil,  far- 
away sound  of  the  lowing  herds  returning  to  the 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  lOI 

village  reached  his  ear.  The  boy  had  but  just 
ceased  playing  and  had  thrown  himself  on  the 
grass,  yielding  to  the  half  dreamy  languor  of  a 
summer  evening.  He  had  been  dozing  for  a 
minute,  when  he  was  roused  by  a  light  footstep. 
With  a  look  of  annoyance  he  rose  on  his  elbow, 
and  listened.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  the  un- 
familiar steps  paused.  He  did  not  recognize 
them. 

"  Boy  !  "  he  heard  a  child's  voice  exclaim, 
"  do  you  know  who  it  was  that  was  playing 
here  just  now?  " 

The  blind  boy  disliked  to  have  his  solitude 
disturbed.  Therefore  his  answer  to  the  ques- 
tion was  given  in  no  amiable  tone,  —  "It 
was  I." 

A  slight  exclamation  of  surprise  greeted  this 
statement ;  and  directly  the  girl's  voice  added 
with  the  utmost  simplicity  and  in  tones  of  ap- 
proval, —  "  How  well  you  play  !  " 

The  blind  boy  made  no  reply.  '^  Why  don't 
you  go  away?  "   he  asked  presently,  when  he 


I02  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

perceived  that  his  unwelcome  visitor  had  not 
left  the  spot. 

"  Why  do  you  drive  me  away?"  asked  the 
girl,  and  her  clear  tones  exjDressed  genuine 
surprise. 

The  tranquil  sound  of  the  child's  voice  was 
grateful  to  the  blind  boy's  ear ;  nevertheless  he 
answered  in  his  former  tone,  —  ^'  I  don't  like  to 
have  people  come  here." 

The  girl  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter. 
"Really?  What  a  strange  idea!  Is  this  all 
your  land,  and  have  you  the  right  to  forbid 
other  people  to  walk  upon  it?" 

"  Mamma  has  given  orders  that  no  one  shall 
come  here." 

'•'Your  mamma?"  asked  the  girl,  thought- 
fully ;  "  but  my  mamma  allowed  me  to  walk 
over  the  river." 

The  boy,  somewhat  spoiled  by  the  universal 
submission  to  his  wishes,  was  not  used  to  such 
persistency.  An  angry  flush  swept  like  a  wave 
over   his    face,   and    half  rising    he    exclaimed 


THR   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  IO3 

rapidly  and  excitedly,  —  "  Go  away  !  go  away  ! 
go  away  !  " 

It  is  impossible  to  tell  how  this  scene  w^uld 
have  ended,  for  just  then  Joachim's  voice 
sounded  from  the  direction  of  the  mansion, 
calling  the  boy  to  tea,  and  he  ran  quickly 
down  the  hill. 

''  Ah,  what  a  hateful  boy  !  "  was  the  indig- 
nant exclamation  he  heard  follow  him. 

The  next  day  while  he  was  sitting  on  the 
very  same  spot,  yesterday's  adventure  came  to 
his  mind.  Now,  this  memory  excited  no  vexa- 
tion ;  on  the  contrary,  he  wished  that  the  girl 
with  the  quiet,  tranquil  voice,  such  as  he  had 
never  heard  before,  would  come  back  again. 
All  the  children  that  he  knew  shouted,  laughed, 
fought,  and  cried  noisily ;  not  one  had  such  a 
pleasant  voice.  He  felt  sorry  to  have  offended 
the  stranger,  who  probably  would  never  return. 

The  girl  indeed  did  not  return  for  three  whole 
days.  But  on  the  fourth  day  Petrusya  heard 
her  steps  belov/  on  the  river's  bank.  She  was 
walking  slowly,  humming  something  to  herself 


I04  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


in  a  low  voice,  and  apparently  paying  no 
attention  to  him. 

"Wait  a  moment !  "  he  called  out,  when  he 
perceived  that  she  was  going  past ;  "  is  that 
you  again?  " 

The  girl  at  first  made  no  reply,  for  her  feel- 
ings had  been  hurt  by  her  former  reception ; 
but  suddenly  it  seemed  to  occur  to  her  that 
there  was  something  strange  in  the  boy's  ques- 
tion, and  she  paused.  "  Can't  you  see  that  it 
is  I?"  she  asked  with  much  dignity,  as  she 
went  on  arranging  a  nosegay  of  wild  flowers 
which  she  held  in  her  hand. 

This  simple  question  sent  a  thrill  of  pain 
through  the  heart  of  the  blind  boy.  He  threw 
himself  back  on  the  grass  and  made  no  reply. 

But  the  conversation  had  been  started,  and 
the  girl  still  standing  on  the  same  spot  and 
busying  herself  with  her  flowers,  asked  again  : 
"Who  taught  you  to  play  so  weH  on  the  pijDe?  " 

"Joachim  taught  me,"  replied  Petrusya. 

"  You  do  play  very  well.  Only  why  are  you 
so  cross?  " 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  IO5 

''I  — -  am  not  cross  with  you,"  replied  the 
boy  gently. 

"  Well,  then,  neither  am  I.  Let  us  play 
together." 

''I  don't  know  how  to  play  with  you,"  he 
replied,  hanging  his  head. 

"  Don't  know  how  to  play?     Why  not?  " 

*' Because." 

"  Tell  me  why." 

"  Because,"  he  replied  scarce  audibly,  and 
dropped  his  head  still  lower.  Never  before 
had  he  been  obliged  to  speak  of  his  blindness, 
and  the  innocent  tone  of  the  voice  of  the  girl, 
who  asked  this  question  with  such  artless  per- 
sistency, produced  a  painful  impression  upon 
him. 

"  How  odd  you  are  !  "  she  said  with  com- 
passionate condescension,  seating  herself  beside 
him  on  the  grass.  "  It  must  be  because  you 
are  not  acquainted  with  me.  When  you  know 
me  better,  you  will  no  longer  be  afraid  of  me. 
Now,  /  am  not  afraid  of  anybody.*' 


I  об  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

She  said  this  with  careless  simphcity,  as  she 
played  with  her  corn-flowers  and  violets.  Mean- 
while the  blind  boy  had  accepted  her  challenge 
to  more  intimate  acquaintance,  and  as  he  knew 
but  one  way  of  learning  to  know  a  person's 
face,  he  naturally  had  recourse  to  his  usual 
method.  Grasping  the  girl's  shoulder  with  one 
hand  he  began  with  the  other  to  feel  of  her 
hair  and  her  eye-lashes  ;  he  passed  his  fingers 
swiftly  over  her  face,  pausing  occasionally  to 
study  the  unfamiliar  features  with  deep  atten- 
tion. All  this  was  so  unexpected,  and  done 
with  such  rapidity,  that  the  girl  in  her  utter 
amazement  never  opened  her  lips ;  she  only 
looked  at  him  with  wide-open  eyes  in  which 
could  be  seen  a  feeling  akin  to  horror.  Not 
until  now  had  she  noticed  anything  unusual  in 
the  face  of  her  new  acquaintance.  The  pale 
and  delicately  cut  features  of  the  boy  were 
rigid  with  a  look  of  constrained  attention,  which 
seemed  in  some  way  incongruous  with  his  fixed 
gaze.     His  eyes  looked  straight  ahead,  without 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


107 


any  apparent  relation  to  what  he  was  doing, 
and  in  them  shone  a  strange  reflection  from  the 
setting  sun.  For  a  moment  the  girl  felt  as  if  it 
were  some  dreadful  nightmare. 

Releasing  her  shoulder  from  the  boy's  hand, 
she  suddenly  sprang  to  her  feet  and  burst  into 
a  flood  of  tears.  "  What  are  you  doing  to  me, 
you  naughty  boy?"  she  exclaimed  angrily 
through  her  tears.  "  Why  do  you  touch  me  ? 
What  have  I  done  to  you?     Why?" 

Confused  as  he  was,  he  remained  sitting  on 
the  same  spot  with  drooping  head,  while  a 
strange  feeling  of  mingled  anger  and  vexation 
filled  his  heart  with  burning  pain.  Now  for  the 
first  time  he  felt  the  degradation  of  a  cripple ; 
for  the  first  time  he  learned  that  his  physical 
defect  might  inspire  alarm  as  well  as  pity. 
Although  he  had  no  power  to  formulate  the 
sense  of  heaviness  that  oppressed  him,  he  suf- 
fered none  the  less  because  this  feeling  was 
dim  and  confused.  A  sense  of  burning  pain 
and  bitter  resentment  swelled  the  boy's  throat ; 


108  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

he  threw  himself  down  on  the  grass  and  wept. 
As  the  weeping  increased,  convulsive  sobs  shook 
his  little  frame,  —  the  more  violently,  because 
his  innate  pride  made  him  struggle  to  repress 
this  outburst. 

The  girl,  who  had  scarcely  reached  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  hearing  those  stifled  sobs  turned  in 
amazement.  When  she  saw  that  odd  new  ac- 
quaintance of  hers  lying  face  downward  on  the 
ground,  crying  so  bitterly,  she  felt  a  sympathy 
for  him,  and  climbing  the  hill  again  she  stood 
over  the  weeping  boy. 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  said.  ''  Why  are  you  cry- 
ing? Perhaps  you  think  that  I  shaU  complain? 
Don't  cry !  I  shall  not  say  a  word  to  any 
one." 

These  words  of  sympathy  and  the  caressing 
voice  excited  a  still  more  violent  fit  of  sobbing. 
Then  the  girl  sitting  down  beside  the  boy, 
devoted  herself  to  the  task  of  comforting 
him. 

Passing  her  hand  gently  over  his  hair,  with 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


109 


an  instinct  purely  feminine,  and  a  gentle  per- 
sistency, she  raised  his  head  and  wiped  the  tears 
from  his  eyes,  like  a  mother  who  tries  to  com- 
fort her  grieving  child. 

"  There,  there,  I  am  no  longer  vexed,"  she 
said  in  the  soothing  tone  of  a  grown-up  woman. 
"  I  see  you  are  sorry  to  have  frightened 
me." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  frighten  you,"  he  replied, 
drawing  a  long  breath  in  his  efforts  to  repress 
his  nervous  sobs. 

"  Well,  it  is  all  right  now.  I  am  no  longer 
angry.  You  will  never  do  it  again,"  she  added, 
raising  him  from  the  ground  and  trying  to  make 
him  sit  down  beside  her. 

Petrusya  yielded.  Again  he  sat  facing  the 
sunset,  and  when  the  girl  saw  his  face  lighted 
by  the  crimson  rays,  she  was  impressed  by  its 
unusual  expression.  The  tears  were  still  stand- 
ing in  the  boy's  eyes,  which  were  as  before 
immovable,  while  his  features  were  twitching 
convulsively  with  childlike  sobs,  —  all  the  signs 


no  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

of  a  deep  sorrow,  such  as  a  mature  nature  might 
feel,  were  evident. 

"  How  queer  you  are  —  really  !  "  she  said  with 
thoughtful  sympathy. 

"I  am  not  queer,"  replied  the  boy  with  a 
pitiful  look.  "  No,  I  am  not  queer  !  I  am  — 
bhnd  !  " 

"  Bli — nd?"  she  repeated,  prolonging  the 
word  in  her  surprise,  while  her  voice  trembled, 
as  though  that  sad  word,  softly  uttered  by  the 
boy,  had  given  a  heavy  blow  to  her  womanly 
little  heart.  "Blind?"  she  repeated  again; 
her  voice  trembled  still  more,  and  then  as 
though  seeking  a  refuge  from  the  uncontrollable 
sense  of  misery  that  had  come  over  her,  she 
suddenly  threw  her  arms  around  the  boy's  neck 
and  hid  her  face  on  his  breast. 

This  sad  discovery  taking  her  entirely  by 
surprise,  had  instantly  changed  the  self-com- 
posed little  woman  to  a  grieved  and  helpless 
child,  who  in  her  turn  wept  bitterly  and  incon- 
solably. 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  Ill 

Meanwhile  the  sun,  revolving  as  it  were  in  the 
glowing  atmosphere,  vanished  below  the  dark 
line  of  the  horizon.  For  a  moment  the  golden 
rim  of  the  fiery  ball  had  lingered  on  the  edge, 
leaving  two  or  three  burning  sparks  behind, 
and  then  the  dark  outlines  of  the  distant  forest 
became  at  once  defined  by  an  uninterrupted 
blue  line.  The  wind  blew  fresh  from  the 
river. 

The   girl  had   ceased  crying ;  only  now  and 

then  a  sob  would  break  forth  in  spite  of  her. 

Petrusya  sat  with  bowed  head  as  if  hardly  able 

to  comprehend  so  lively  an  expression  of  sym- 
pathy. 

"  I  am  —  sorry,"  she  said  at  last,  by  way  of 

explaining  her  weakness,  but  her  voice  was  still 

broken  by  sobs.     Then  after  a   short    silence, 

having    partially  regained  her  self-control,   she 

made  an  attempt  to  change  the  conversation  to 

some  topic  of  which  they  could  both  speak  with 


112  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

composure.  ''The  sun  has  set,"  she  said 
thoughtfully. 

''  I  don't  know  how  it  looks,"  was  the  mourn- 
ful reply.     "  I  only  —  feel  it." 

"  You  don't  know  the  sun?  " 

''  No." 

"  And  you  don't  know  your  mamma,  either?  " 

''  Yes,  I  know  mamma.  I  can  tell  her  step 
from  a  distance." 

"  Yes,  of  course  you  can.  I  can  tell  my 
mother  when  my  eyes  are  shut." 

The  conversation  had  assumed  a  less  agitating 
tone. 

"  I  can  feel  the  sun,"  said  the  blind  boy, 
growing  more  animated,  "  and  I  can  tell  when 
it  has  set." 

''  How  can  you  tell?  " 

"  Because  —  don't  you  see  ?  —  I  can't  tell 
why  myself." 

^^  Yes,"  said  the  girl,  and  she  seemed  quite 
satisfied   with  this  reply,  and  both  were  silent. 

"  I  can  read,"  Petrusya  was  the  first  to  break 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


113 


the  silence,  "  and  I  shall  soon  begin  to  learn  to 
write  with  a  pen." 

"  How  do  you  manage?  "  she  inquired,  and 
suddenly  paused  abashed,  reluctant  to  pursue 
the  delicate  subject. 

But  he  understood  her.  ^^  I  read  from  my 
own  book,  with  my  fingers,"  he  explained. 

"  With  your  fingers  ?  I  could  never  learn  to 
read  with  my  fingers.  I  read  poorly  enough 
with  my  eyes.  My  father  says  that  it  is  difficult 
for  women  to  learn." 

"  And  I  can  even  read  French." 

"  How  clever  you  are  !  "  she  exclaimed 
admiringly.  ^'  But  I  am  afraid  that  you  will 
take  cold,"  she  added  ;  "  see  how  the  fog  is  ris- 
ing over  the  river." 

"  And  you  yourself?  " 

''  I  am  not  afraid.  What  harm  can  it  do 
me?" 

"  Neither  am  I  afraid.  Could  a  man  pos- 
sibly take  cold  more  easily  than  a  woman? 
Uncle  Maxim  says  a  man  must  never  fear  any- 


114  '^^^   BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

thing,  neither  cold  nor  hunger,  nor  the  thunder- 
bolt, nor  the  hurricane." 

"Maxim,  —  the  one  on  crutches?  I  have 
seen  him.     He  is  terrible." 

"  No,  indeed.     He  is  very  kind." 

"  No,  he  is  terrible,"  she  persisted.  "  You 
cannot  know,  because  you  never  saw  him." 

"  I  do  know  him.  He  teaches  me  every- 
thing." 

"  Does  he  beat  you?  " 

"Never.  He  never  beats  me  or  screams  at 
me,  —  never." 

^^■  Well,  I  am  glad  of  that.  How  could  any- 
body strike  a  blind  boy?     It  would  be  a  sin." 

"  He  never  strikes  any  one,"  said  Petriisya, 
in  an  abstracted  tone  of  voice,  for  his  sensitive 
ear  had  caught  the  sound  of  Joachim's  steps. 

In  fact  the  tall  figure  of  the  Hohol  appeared 
a  moment  later  on  the  summit  of  the  rising 
ground  that  separated  the  estate  from  the  shore, 
and  his  voice  resounded  through  the  tranquil 
evening  air,  —  "  Panitch  !  " 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


115 


"They  are  calling  you,"  said  the  girl,  rising. 

'^  I  know  it ;  but  I  don't  want  to  go." 

*'  Oh,  yes,  do  go.  I  will  come  to  see  you 
to-morrow.  They  are  waiting  for  you  now,  and 
for  me  too." 

The  girl  was  faithful  to  her  promise,  and  ap- 
peared even  earlier  than  Petriasya  could  have 
expected  her.  The  next  day  as  he  was  sitting 
in  his  room  at  his  daily  lesson  with  Maxim,  he 
suddenly  raised  his  head,  listened,  and  ex- 
claimed eagerly,  ''May  I  go  for  a  minute? 
The  girl  has  come." 

"What  girl  do  you  mean?"  inquired  Maxim, 
as  he  followed  the  boy  out  of  the  door. 

Petrusya's  acquaintance  of  yesterday  had  in 
fact  entered  the  yard  of  the  mansion  at  that 
very  moment,  and  on  seeing  Anna  Michailovna 
who  was  in  the  act  of  crossing  it,  deliberately 
went  up  to  her. 

"What  do  you  wish,  dear  child?"  asked  the 
former,  supposing  that  she  had  been  sent  on 
some  errand. 


Il6  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

The  little  woman  offered  her  hand,  as  she 
demurely  inquired,  "  Are  you  the  mother  of  the 
blind  boy?     Yes?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  replied  Pani  Popelska,  ad- 
miring the  girl's  clear  eyes  and  the  ease  of  her 
manners. 

^^  Well,  Mamma  gave  me  permission  to  come 
to  see  him.     May  I  see  him?  " 

At  that  moment  Petrusya  himself  ran  up  to 
her,  and  behind  him  in  the  vestibule  appeared 
Maxim. 

"  That 's  yesterday's  girl,  Mamma,  —  the  one 
I  told  you  of,"  exclaimed  the  boy,  as  he  greeted 
the  child.     "  But  I  am  taking  my  lesson  now." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Maxim  will  excuse  you  this 
time,"  said  Anna  Michailovna.  "  I  will  ask 
him." 

Meanwhile  the  little  woman,  perfectly  at 
home,  approached  Maxim,  who  was  advancing 
toward  her  with  his  crutch  and  cane,  and  ex- 
tending her  hand,  remarked  with  the  most 
gracious    condescension,    "  It  is  very  good  of 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  II 7 

you  not  to  Strike  a  blind  boy.  He  has  told  me 
of  it." 

"  Indeed,  my  young  lady ! "  exclaimed 
Maxim,  with  a  comical  affectation  of  gravity, 
clasping  between  his  own  broad  palms  the  girl's 
tiny  hand.  "  How  grateful  I  ought  to  be  to  my 
pupil  that  he  won  your  good-will  in  my  be- 
half! "  And  Maxim  laughed,  as  he  patted  the 
hand  he  retained  in  his  own.  Meanwhile  the 
girl  stood  looking  at  him  with  her  clear,  open 
gaze,  which  completely  subjugated  his  woman- 
hating  heart. 

''  Well,  Annusya,"  said  Maxim  to  his  sister 
with  a  quizzical  smile,  "  it  seems  that  our  Peter 
is  beginning  to  choose  his  own  friends.  And 
you  cannot  deny,  Annya,  that  he  has  made  a 
good  choice,  even  though  he  is  bUnd.  Has  he 
not  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean.  Max?"  asked  the 
young  woman,  gravely,  as  the  color  mounted  to 
her  cheeks. 

''  I    was    only  joking,"  replied   the   brother. 


Il8  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

briefly,  perceiving  that  his  sally  had  touched  a 
sensitive  chord,  which  responding  revealed  a 
hidden  thought  in  the  maternal  heart. 

Anna  Michailovna  blushed  still  more  deeply ; 
she  stooped  hastily,  and  with  a  sudden  passion- 
ate tenderness  embraced  the  girl,  who  received 
this  unexpected  and  impulsive  caress  with  her 
usual  serene  though  slightly  surprised  expres- 
sion. 

VI. 

From  that  day  the  closest  intimacy  was  es- 
tablished between  the  Popelski  mansion  and  the 
home  of  the  Possessor.  The  girl,  whose  name 
was  Evelyn,  came  every  day  to  the  mansion, 
and  in  a  short  time  she  too  became  Uncle 
Maxim's  pupil. 

At  first  this  plan  of  companionship  in  study 
did  not  meet  with  Pan  Yaskiilski's  approval. 
In  the  first  place  he  thought  that  a  woman 
needed  no  more  education  than  would  enable 
her  to  keep  a  memorandum  of  the  soiled  linen, 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  II9 

and  an  account  of  her  own  expenses ;  in  the 
second  place  he  was  a  good  Catholic,  and  be- 
lieved that  Maxim  had  committed  a  sin  in 
fighting  the  Austrians  in  defiance  of  the  clearly 
expressed  admonition  of  the  "  father-pope." 
Finally  he  firmly  believed  that  there  was  a  God 
in  heaven,  and  that  Voltaire  and  his  followers 
were  plunged  in  fiery  pitch,  —  a  fate  which  also, 
as  many  believed,  was  in  waiting  for  Pan  Maxim. 
However,  as  he  grew  to  know  him  more  in- 
timately, he  was  obliged  to  admit  that  this 
heretic  and  fighter  was  a  very  good-natured  and 
clever  man,  and  so  the  Possessor  compromised 
the  matter. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  this,  Velya,"  he  said,  ad- 
dressing his  daughter,  as  he  was  on  the  point 
of  leaving  her  to  take  her  first  lesson  from 
Maxim,  "never  forget  that  there  is  a  God  in 
heaven  and  a  Holy  Father  in  Rome.  I,  Valen- 
tine Yaskulski,  say  this  to  you ;  and  you  must 
believe  me,  because  I  am  your  father.  That 
iox  p7'i77io.     Secundo,  I  am  a  Polish  nobleman, 


120  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

and  on  my  coat-of-arms,  together  with  the  hay- 
rick and  the  crow,  is  a  cross  on  an  azure  field. 
The  Yaskulskis  were  ever  good  knights,  and  at 
the  same  time  they  were  not  ignorant  concern- 
ing religious  matters ;  and  for  that  reason  also 
you  must  believe  me.  But  in  regard  to  all  sub- 
jects relating  to  orbis  terrarum  you  are  to  re- 
spect what  Pan  Maxim  Yatzenko  tells  you,  and 
study  faithfully." 

"  Do  not  fear.  Pan  Valentine,"  retorted  Max- 
im, smiling,  "  we  do  not  draft  little  Panis  into 
Garibaldi's  regiment." 


VII. 

Both  children  profited  by  this  companionship 
in  study.  Although  Petrusya  was  farther  ad- 
vanced, there  was  still  an  opportunity  for  com- 
petition. Moreover,  he  could  often  help  his 
new  friend  about  her  lessons,  and  she  was  very 
successful  in  devising  methods  of  explanation  in 
regard  to  subjects  which  were  naturally  difficult 


THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN.  121 

for  a  blind  boy  to  comprehend.  Her  society 
had  introduced  a  new  element  into  his  studies, 
contributing  a  pleasing  excitement  to  his  men- 
tal labors. 

Taking  it  all  in  all,  fate  had  certainly  proved 
propitious  in  this  gift  of  friendship.  The  boy 
no  longer  sought  solitude ;  he  had  found  that 
congenial  companionship  which  the  love  of 
older  people  had  not  afforded,  and  in  moments 
when  his  little  soul  was  most  peaceful  he  was 
glad  to  have  his  friend  near  him.  They  always 
went  together  to  the  cliff  or  to  the  river-bank. 
When  he  played,  she  listened  with  genuine  de- 
light ;  and  after  he  had  laid  his  pipe  aside, 
she  would  describe  in  her  vivid  childlike  way 
the  various  objects  in  Nature  that  surrounded 
them.  She  could  not  of  course  picture  them 
with  absolute  fidelity,  but  from  her  simple  de- 
scription the  boy  gained  a  very  clear  idea  of  the 
characteristic  coloring  of  every  phenomenon 
which  she  described.  Thus,  for  instance,  when 
she  spoke  of  the  darkness  with  which  the  black 


122 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


and  misty  night  shrouded  the  earth,  he  formed 
a  conception  of  this  same  darkness  from  the 
low  tones  of  her  timid  voice.  Then  again,  as 
she  raised  her  serious  face  and  said  to  him, 
"  Ah,  what  a  cloud  is  coming  toward  us  !  —  a 
very  dark  cloud!"  he  seemed  directly  to  feel 
its  cold  blast,  and  in  her  voice  he  fancied  the 
rustling  sound  of  the  creeping  monster  advanc- 
ing threateningly  upon  him  far  above  his  head. 


There  are  natures  that  seem 
predestined  for  the  gentle  task  of  love,  as  well 
as  for  the  anxieties  of  sorrow,  —  natures  in 
whom  a  sympathy  for  the  cares  or  griefs  of 
others  is  a  necessity  as  imperative  as  the  air  they 
breathe.  They  have  been  endowed  with  that 
calmness  so  essential  for  the  fulfilment  of  every- 
day duties  ;  all  the  natural  longings  for  personal 
happiness  seem  to  have  been  restrained  and 
held  in  subserviency  to  the  ruling  characteristic 


12б  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

of  their  temperaments.  Such  beings  often  ap- 
pear too  placid,  too  reasonable,  and  devoid  of 
sentiment.  They  are  insensible  to  the  pas- 
sionate longings  of  a  life  of  pleasure,  and  follow 
the  stern  path  of  duty  with  as  much  content- 
ment as  if  it  were  yielding  them  the  most  glow- 
ing joys.  They  seem  as  frigid  and  majestic  as 
the  mountain-tops.  Commonplace  human  life 
abases  itself  at  their  feet ;  even  gossip  and  cal- 
umny glide  from  their  snowy  white  garments 
like  spatters  of  mud  from  the  wings  of  a  swan. 

Peter's  little  friend  presented  all  the  traits  of 
this  type,  which  as  the  product  of  education 
or  experience  is  but  rarely  seen.  Like  genius, 
it  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  chosen  few,  and  gen- 
erally manifests  itself  early  in  life.  The  mother 
of  the  blind  boy  realized  what  good  fortune 
had  befallen  her  son  in  winning  the  friendship 
of  this  child.  Old  Maxim  likewise  appreciated 
this,  and  felt  confident  that  since  his  pupil  now 
enjoyed  the  benefit  of  an  influence  heretofore 
wanting,  his   moral    development  would   make 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  1 27 


tranquil    and    continuous    progress.      But    this 
proved  a  sad  mistake. 

II. 

During  the  first  few  years  of  the  child's  life 
Maxim  had  believed  the  boy's  mental  growth 
to  be  under  his  entire  control,  and  its  processes, 
if  not  directly  guided  by  his  influence,  at 
least  so  far  affected  by  it  that  no  new  intel- 
lectual manifestation  or  acquisition  could  evade 
his  vigilance.  But  when  the  boy  reached  that 
period  of  his  life  which  forms  the  boundary  be- 
tween childhood  and  youth,  Maxim  realized 
how  vain  had  been  his  audacious  dreams  of 
education.  Nearly  every  week  revealed  some- 
thing new,  oftentimes  something  he  had  never 
anticipated ;  and  in  his  efforts  to  discover  the 
sources  of  the  new  idea,  or  representation 
thereof,  Maxim  was  invariably  baflled.  A  cer- 
tain unknown  influence,  either  organic  growth 
or  hereditary  development,  was  evidently  par- 
ticipating in  Maxim's  educational  plans ;    and 


128  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

he  often  paused  reverently  to  contemplate  the 
mysterious  operations  of  Nature.  In  these  out- 
breaks by  which  Nature  effects  her  gratuitous 
revelations,  disturbing,  so  to  speak,  the  equili- 
brium between  the  supply  of  acquired  know- 
ledge on  the  one  hand  and  that  of  personal 
experience  on  the  other,  Maxim  had  no  trouble 
in  following  the  connecting  links  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  universal  life,  which  diverging  into 
thousands  of  channels  enter  into  separate  and 
'' individual "  lives. 

This  discovery  was  at  first  startling  to  Maxim, 
inasmuch  as  it  revealed  the  fact  that  the  mental 
growth  of  the  child  was  subject  to  other  influ- 
ences beside  his  own.  He  became  anxious  for 
the  fate  of  his  ward,  alarmed  at  the  possibility 
of  influences  which  could  bring  the  blind  man 
nothing  but  irremediable  suffering.  Then  he 
tried  to  trace  to  their  sources  those  mysterious 
springs  which  had  leaped  to  the  surface,  hop- 
ing to  obstruct  their  passage  and  check  their 
influence  over  the  bhnd  child. 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN.  129 

Nor  had  the  mother  failed  to  observe  these 
things.  One  morning  Petrik  ran  up  to  her  in 
an  unusual  state  of  excitement. 

"  Mamma,  Mamma,"  he  exclaimed,  ^^  I  saw 
a  dream  !  " 

*'What  did  you  see,  my  boy?"  she  asked; 
and  in  her  voice  there  was  a  pathetic  intonation 
as  of  doubt. 

^^  I  dreamed  that  I  saw  you  and  Uncle 
Maxim  ;  and  —  " 

"What  else?" 

"  I  don't  remember." 

"  And  do  you  remember  me  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  boy,  thoughtfully,  *'  I  have 
forgotten  everything." 

This  was  repeated  several  times ;  and  each 
time  the  boy  grew  sadder  and  more  restless. 


III. 

Once,  as  he  was  crossing  the  yard,  Maxim 
heard  from  the  drawing-room,  where  the  music- 

9 


I30 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


lessons  usually  took  place,  some  very  queer 
exercises.  They  consisted  of  two  notes.  First, 
the  highest  key  of  the  upper  register  was  struck 
incessantly,  in  swift  repetition ;  then  the  low 
reverberation  of  a  bass  note  jarred  upon  the 
ear.  Curious  to  discover  what  might  be  the 
meaning  of  these  strange  musical  exercises, 
Maxim  hobbled  across  the  yard,  and  a  minute 
later  entered  the  drawing-room.  He  paused, 
and  stood  motionless  in  the  doorway,  contem- 
plating the  scene  before  him. 

The  boy,  who  was  now  ten  years  old,  sat  on 
a  low  stool  at  his  mother's  feet.  Beside  him, 
craning  his  neck  and  turning  his  long  beak 
from  side  to  side,  stood  a  tame  stork  which 
Joachim  had  presented  to  the  *'  Panitch."  The 
boy  fed  him  every  morning  from  his  own  hands, 
and  the  bird  followed  his  new  friend  and  master 
from  morning  till  night.  At  this  moment 
Petrusya  was  holding  him  by  one  hand,  and 
slowly  stroking  his  neck  and  back  Avith  the 
other,  while  an  expression  of  deep  thought  and 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


131 


absorption  rested  on  his  face.  Tlie  mother 
meanwhile,  evidently  excited  and  at  the  same 
time  with  a  look  of  sadness,  was  striking  with 
her  finger  the  key  that  sent  forth  that  sharp 
resonant  note.  At  the  same  time,  slightly 
bending  forward  from  her  seat,  she  watched  the 
boy's  face  with  a  painful  scrutiny.  When  his 
hand,  gliding  along  the  brilliant  white  plumage, 
reached  the  tips  of  the  wings,  where  the  white 
plumes  were  suddenly  replaced  by  black  ones, 
Anna  Michailovna  instantly  moved  her  hand 
to  the  other  key,  and  the  low  bass  note,  with 
its  deep  reverberations,  echoed  through  the 
room. 

Both  mother  and  son  were  so  much  en- 
grossed in  their  occupation  that  they  had  not 
observed  Maxim's  entrance,  until,  recovering 
from  his  astonishment,  he  interrupted  this  per- 
formance :   "  Annusya,  what  does  this  mean?  " 

Meeting  Maxim's  searching  glance,  the  young 
woman  was  as  much  confused  as  if  a  severe 
tutor  had  detected   her  in  the  commission  of 


132  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

some  fault.  ''  You  see,"  she  said  in  confusion, 
"  he  tells  me  that  he  can  distinguish  a  certain 
difference  between  the  colors  of  the  stork,  but 
he  cannot  understand  wherein  this  difference 
consists.  Truly  he  was  the  first  one  to  mention 
it,  and  I  believe  he  is  right." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"  Well,  I  was  trying,  after  a  fashion,  to  ex- 
plain this  difference  to  him  by  sounds.  Don't 
be  vexed.  Max,  but  I  really  think  that  there  is 
a  correspondence." 

This  unexpected  idea  took  Maxim  so  en- 
tirely by  surprise  that  at  first  he  was  at  a  loss 
for  an  answer.  He  asked  her  to  repeat  her 
experiments,  and  as  he  watched  the  rigid  con- 
centration of  the  boy's  expression  he  shook  his 
head.  '^  Believe  me,  Anna,"  he  said  when  he 
was  alone  with  her,  ''  it  is  better  not  to  arouse 
thoughts  in  the  boy's  mind,  to  which  you  can 
give  no  satisfactory  solution.  He  must  resign 
himself  to  his  blindness,  —  there  is  no  help  for 
it ;   and  it  is  our  duty  to  keep  him  from  trying 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  1 33 

to  comprehend  the  hght.  For  my  part,  I  make 
every  effort  to  avert  each  question,  and  if  it 
were  but  possible  to  keep  him  removed  from 
all  objects  likely  to  suggest  them,  he  would  no 
more  realize  that  a  sense  is  missing  than  we 
who  possess  five  deplore  the  want  of  a  sixth." 

The  sister  yielded  as  usual  to  her  brother's 
persuasive  arguments ;  but  this  time  both  were 
mistaken.  While  overrating  the  influence  of 
outside  impressions,  Maxim  forgot  the  power- 
ful stimuhis  which  Nature  communicates  to  a 
child's  soul. 

IV. 

They  had  before  them  a  blind  child,  a  future 
man,  the  possible  father  of  a  family.  ''  Ma- 
levolent fate,"  or  perhaps  ^^  accident  "  hidden 
within  the  mysterious  realm  of  phenomena, 
had  closed  forever  those  eyes,  —  the  windows 
through  which  the  soul  receives  impressions 
from  the  glowing,  many- colored,  changing 
world.     Doomed  never  to  behold  the  light  of 


134  ^^^   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

the  sun,  although  not  himself  the  offspring  of 
the  blind,  he  was  still  a  link  in  the  illimitable 
chain  of  bygone  lives,  and  contained  within 
himself  the  possibilities  of  future  lives.  All 
those  living  links  now  lost  in  the  remote  past, 
corresponding  in  proportion  to  their  capacity 
to  the  impressions  of  light,  had  transmitted  to 
him  the  inner  faculty,  and  through  him,  blind 
though  he  was,  to  an  endless  succession  of 
future  generations  who  would  possess  the  power 
of  vision. •^ 

Thus  it  was  that  in  the  depths  of  this  child's 
soul  these  hereditary  forces  lay  dormant,  — 
vague  "  possibilities,"  hitherto  unaffected  by 
outside  influences.  The  whole  fabric  of  his 
mind,  fashioned  after  the  ancestral  model,  had 
reserved  within  itself  a  substratum  of  the  im- 
pressions of  light,  the  product  of  the  countless 
experiences  of  his  ancestors.  Thus  in  his  inner 
organization  the  blind  man  is  like  another  pos- 
sessing eyesight,  but  with  eyes  forever  closed, 

1  Blind  people  seldom  have  blind  children. 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


135 


Hence  a  dim  yet  ever  present  consciousness  of 
desire  that  craves  contentment ;  an  undefined 
yearning  to  exercise  the  dormant  powers  of  his 
soul  which  have  never  been  called  into  action. 
Hence  also  certain  vague  forebodings  and  en- 
deavors, —  like  the  longing  for  flight,  which 
children  feel,  and  the  joys  of  which  they  taste 
in  witching  dreams. 

Now,  at  last,  the  instinctive  inclination  of 
little  Peter's  childish  fancies  was  reflected  on 
his  features  in  that  look  of  troubled  perplexity. 
Those  hereditary,  and  yet  as  far  as  he  himself 
was  concerned  undeveloped  and  therefore  un- 
shaped,  "possibilities  "  of  the  ideas  of  light 
rose  like  obscure  phantoms  in  the  child's  mind, 
exciting  him  to  aimless  and  distressing  efforts. 
x\ll  his  nature,  in  an  unconscious  protest  against 
the  individual  "  accident,"  rose  to  claim  the 
restoration  of  the  universal  law. 


136  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

Y. 

Consequently,  however  much  Maxim  might 
try  to  exclude  all  outward  impressions  from  his 
nephew,  he  had  no  control  over  the  urgent 
cravings  that  came  from  within.  With  all 
his  precautions  he  could  but  avert  a  prema- 
ture awakening  of  these  unsatisfied  yearnings, 
and  thereby  diminish  the  boy's  chances  of 
suffering.  In  every  other  respect  the  child's 
unhappy  fate,  with  all  its  cruel  consequences, 
must  take  its  course. 

And  like  a  dark  shadow  this  fate  advanced 
to  meet  him.  From  year  to  year  the  boy's 
natural  vivacity  subsided,  like  a  receding  wave, 
while  the  melancholy  that  was  echoing  within 
his  soul  grew  persistently,  and  left  its  impress 
on  his  temperament.  His  laughter,  which  in 
childhood  resounded  at  every  new  and  espe- 
cially vivid  impression,  was  now  rarely  heard. 
He  was  naturally  less  accessible  to  all  that  was 
bright  and  cheerful,  and  more  or  less  humorous, 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  137 

than  to  that  vague  obscurity  and  gloom  pecuUar 
to  the  Southern  nature,  which  finds  reflection 
in  the  folk-songs.  These  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  the  boy's  imagination.  The  tears 
stood  in  his  eyes  whenever  he  heard  how  "  the 
grave  whispers  to  the  wind  in  the  field,"  and 
he  loved  to  wander  through  the  fields  himself, 
listening  to  this  murmur.  He  longed  more 
and  more  for  solitude ;  and  when  in  his  hours 
of  recreation  he  started  off  on  his  lonely  walk, 
the  family  would  avoid  that  direction,  lest  they 
might  disturb  his  solitude. 

Seated  upon  some  mound  out  on  the  steppe, 
or  on  the  hillock  above  the  river,  or  on  the 
familiar  cliff,  Petrusya  would  listen  to  the  rust- 
ling leaves,  the  whispering  grass,  the  vague 
soughing  of  the  wind  across  the  steppe.  All 
this  harmonized  perfectly  with  the  deep  serious- 
ness of  his  mood.  There,  so  far  as  in  him  lay, 
he  was  in  absolute  sympathy  with  Nature ;  he 
understood  her;  she  disturbed  him  by  no  per- 
plexing and  unanswerable  questions.    There  the 


138  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

wind  fanned  his  very  soul,  and  the  grass  seemed 
to  whisper  soft  words  of  pity ;  and  as  the  spirit 
of  the  youth  in  harmony  with  the  gentle  influ- 
ences that  surrounded  him  melted  at  the  ten- 
der caress  of  Nature,  he  felt  his  bosom  swell 
with  an  emotion  that  communicated  itself  to 
his  whole  being.  In  moments  like  these  he 
would  throw  himself  on  the  cool,  moist  grass 
and  weep ;  but  in  these  tears  there  was  no 
bitterness.  Again,  he  would  seize  his  pipe, 
and  enraptured  by  his  own  emotions  would 
improvise  pensive  melodies  suited  to  his  mood 
and  to  the  peaceful  harmony  of  the  steppe. 
One  could  easily  understand  that  any  human 
sound  coming  unexpectedly  to  interrupt  this 
mood  would  affect  him  like  a  distressing  dis- 
cord. At  such  times  the  only  fellowship 
possible  to  him  was  with  a  soul  akin  to  his 
own ;  and  in  the  fair-haired  girl  from  the 
estate  of  the  Possessor  the  boy  enjoyed  just 
such  a  companion. 

This  friendship  was  the  more  firmly  knitted 


THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN,  1 39 

by  mutual  sympathy.  If  Evelyn  contributed  to 
their  partnership  her  calmness,  her  gentle  ani- 
mation, or  imparted  to  the  blind  boy  some  new 
detail  of  the  surrounding  life,  he  in  turn  gave 
her  his  sorrow.  The  little  woman's  knowledge 
of  him  seemed  to  have  dealt  a  serious  blow  to 
her  tender  heart :  pluck  a  dagger  from  a  wound, 
and  the  bleeding  will  increase.  On  the  day 
when  she  first  learned  to  know  the  blind  boy 
on  the  hillock  in  the  steppe,  her  sympathy  for 
his  affliction  had  really  caused  her  acute  pain, 
and  his  presence  had  grown  by  degrees  quite 
indispensable  to  her.  Separation  seemed  to 
renew  and  increase  the  poignant  pain  of  her 
wound,  and  she  longed  to  be  with  her  little 
friend  that  she  might  appease  her  own  suffering 
by  ministering  constantly  to  his  comfort. 


VI. 

One  warm  autumn  night  both  families  were 
sitting  on  the    terrace  in   front   of   the   house. 


140  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

admiring  the  starry  sky,  with  its  bhie  distances 
and  glimmering  hghts.  The  bhnd  boy  with  his 
friend  sat  as  usual  by  his  mother's  side.  Ail 
was  still  around  the  mansioUj  and  for  the  mo- 
ment they  sat  silent ;  only  the  leaves  stirred  from 
time  to  time,  like  startled  things,  with  unintelli- 
gible murmurings,  and  then  lapsed  into  silence. 

Suddenly  a  meteor,  leaping  forth  from  the 
darkness,  flashed  across  the  sky  in  one  brilliant 
streak ;  and  as  it  gradually  disappeared,  it  left 
behind  a  trail  of  phosphorescent  light.  Petrusya 
seated  beside  his  mother  had  linked  his  arm  in 
hers,  and  she  became  suddenly  conscious  that 
he  started  and  began  to  tremble. 

"  What  —  was  that?  "  he  asked,  with  a  look 
of  trouble  on  his  face. 

"  It  was  a  falling  star,  my  child." 

"  Ah  yes,  a  star,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  ''  I 
felt  sure  that  it  was  a  star." 

"How  could  you  know,  my  boy?  "  inquired 
the  mother,  with  a  pitiful  accent  of  doubt  in 
her  voice. 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN.  141 


"  He  is  telling  the  truth,"  exclaimed  Evelyn ; 
*'  he  knows  many  things  like  that." 

This  increasing  sensitiveness  indicated  that 
the  boy  was  evidently  drawing  near  the  critical 
period  that  lay  between  childhood  and  youth. 
Meanwhile  his  development  pursued  its  quiet 
course.  He  seemed  to  have  grown  accustomed 
to  his  lot,  and  the  exceptional  and  uniform 
character  of  his  sadness,  —  a  sadness  cheered 
as  it  were  by  no  single  ray  of  light,  but  at  the 
same  time  free  from  all  eager  cravings,  and 
grown  to  be  the  habitual  background  of  his 
life,  —  was  in  some  measure  mitigated. 

But  this  proved  to  have  been  simply  a  period 
of  temporary  repose.  Nature  has  appointed 
these  resting-places  that  the  young  organism 
may  gain  strength  to  meet  other  attacks.  Dur- 
ing these  calms,  new  questions  imperceptibly 
rise  to  the  surface  and  mature ;  and  it  needs 
but  a  touch  to  disturb  this  outward  peace,  and 
stir  the  soul  to  its  very  depths,  even  as  the  sea 
is  lashed  by  a  sudden  squall. 


IPVL' 


And    thus  a   few   more    years 


went  by.  There  were  no  changes  in  the  peace- 
ful mansion.  The  beech-trees  in  the  garden 
rustled  as  of  old,  only  their  foliage  seemed  to 
have  grown  darker  and  thicker ;  the  white 
walls,  although  they  had  warped  and  settled 
more  or  less,  shone  precisely  as  they  used ;  the 
thatched  roofs  frowned  the  same  as  ever;  and 
even  the  well-known  sound  of  Joachim's  pipe 
might    be    heard   at   the  usual    hour  from   the 


lO 


146  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

direction  of  the  stable.  But  Joachim  himself, 
still  a  bachelor,  and  grown  gray  in  the  service 
as  groom,  chose  rather  to  listen  to  the  Panitch 
when  he  played  either  the  piano  or  the  pipe,  it 
mattered  not  which.  Maxim  too,  had  grown 
still  more  gray.  The  Popelski  had  no  other 
children,  and  therefore  their  first-born,  the  blind 
boy,  remained  as  ever  the  central  object  of 
interest,  around  which  clustered  the  life  of  the 
whole  mansion.  It  was  for  his  sake  that  the 
family  had  thus  isolated  itself  within  its  own 
narrow  circle,  contented  with  its  tranquil  exis- 
tence, whose  current  had  now  united  with  the 
equally  placid  life  of  the  Possessor's  "  cabin." 

Thus  Peter,  who  had  now  become  a  youth, 
had  grown  up  like  a  hot-house  plant,  guarded 
from  the  rude  winds  of  the  outer  world.  He 
was  still  as  of  old  in  the  centre  of  a  vast,  dark 
world.  Darkness  enveloped  him  in  every  direc- 
tion, —  above,  around,  on  all  sides ;  illimitable, 
eternal.  His  delicate  and  sensitive  organism 
vibrated  in  response  to  every  impression,  like  a 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN.  I47 

finely  Strung  instrument.  This  sensitive  ex- 
pectancy was  perceptible  in  the  bUnd  youth's 
disposition ;  he  seemed  to  feel  that  the  dark- 
ness was  about  to  stretch  forth  its  invisible  arms 
and  arouse  by  its  touch  that  which  now  lay 
dormant  in  his  breast,  waiting  only  for  the 
summons.  But  the  dreary  darkness  around 
him,  familiar  from  his  childhood,  replied  only 
by  the  caressing  murmur  that  rose  from  the  old 
garden,  inspiring  him  with  vague,  tranquillizing, 
and  dreamy  thoughts.  The  turbulent  current 
of  the  far-off  world,  known  to  the  blind  boy 
only  through  the  medium  of  song  and  story, 
had  no  entrance  here.  Amid  the  dreary 
whispers  of  the  garden  and  the  peaceful  every- 
day life  of  the  country  house,  he  heard  of  the 
tumults  and  tribulations  of  the  world  from  the 
hps  of  others ;  and  his  imagination  pictured  it 
all  veiled  in  clouds  of  mystery,  —  like  a  song, 
an  heroic  poem^  or  a  fairy  tale. 

Everything  seemed   favorable.     The   mother 
felt  that  the  soul  of  her  son,  protected  as  by  a 


148  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

wall  was  living  in  an  enchanted  dream,  which 
was  tranquil  even  if  it  were  unreal.  Evelyn, 
who  had  imperceptibly  grown  to  womanhood, 
watched  this  enchanted  tranquillity  with  her 
calm  gaze,  sometimes  showing  a  slight  surprise, 
or  an  expression  of  wonder  as  to  future  events, 
but  never  a  shadow  of  impatience.  Popelski 
the  father  had  brought  his  estate  into  a  pros- 
perous condition,  but  the  good  man  troubled 
himself  very  little  about  his  son's  future  life.  A 
man  of  Maxim's  temperament  could  only  be  ill 
at  ease  in  this  quiet  life  ;  he  simply  endured  it, 
looking  upon  it  as  a  temporary  arrangement, 
which  had  interwoven  itself  into  his  plans  in 
spite  of  himself.  He  deemed  it  necessary  for 
the  youth's  interior  nature  to  gain  strength  and 
maturity,  that  he  might  be  better  able  to  cope 
with  the  rude  assaults  of  life. 

Meanwhile,  outside  the  limit  of  this  en- 
chanted circle,  life  went  on,  seething,  bubbling, 
and  raging ;  and  at  last  the  time  came  when 
the  old  veteran  decided  to  break  into  this  cir- 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


149 


cle, —  to  open  the  door  of  the  hot-house,  and 
admit  a  current  of  outside  air. 


II. 

By  way  of  breaking  the  ice,  he  invited  an 
old  friend,  who  Hved  about  seventy  versts  from 
the  Popelski  estate,  to  pay  him  a  visit.  In  for- 
mer times  Maxim  used  to  be  the  visitor ;  but 
he  knew  that  some  young  people  were  staying 
at  Stavruchenko's  house  at  that  time,  and  so  he 
wrote  him  a  letter  inviting  the  whole  party. 
This  invitation  was  accepted  with  pleasure. 
The  two  old  men  were  bound  by  ties  of  friend- 
ship, and  the  young  people  were  all  famihar 
with  the  once  famous  name  of  Maxim  Yatzenko, 
connected  as  it  was  with  many  a  romantic  tale. 
One  of  the  sons  of  Stavruchenko  was  a  student 
in  the  University  of  Kiev,  in  the  School  of  Phi- 
lology, very  popular  at  that  time.  Another  son 
was  studying  music  in  the  St.  Petersburg  con- 
servatory.    Another  member  of  the  party  was  a 


150  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

young  cadet,  the  son  of  a  neighboring  landlord. 
Stavruchenko  was  a  vigorous  old  man,  gray- 
haired,  wearing  a  long  mustache  after  the  Cos- 
sack fashion,  and  the  loose  Cossack  trousers 
tucked  into  the  boots.  His  tobacco-pouch  and 
pipe  were  suspended  from  his  belt,  and  he 
spoke  nothing  but  Little  Russian ;  and  beside 
his  two  sons,  dressed  in  white  sleeveless  coats 
and  embroidered  Little  Russian  shirts,  he  viv- 
idly recalled  Gogol's  Taras  Bulba  with  his  fol- 
lowers. But  Stavruchenko  lacked  the  romantic 
characteristics  of  Gogol's  hero.  He  was  on  the 
contrary  an  excellent  and  practical  landlord, 
who  had  always  got  on  well  with  the  serfs ;  and 
now  that  serfdom  was  abolished  he  was  clever 
enough  to  adapt  himself  to  the  new  conditions. 
He  knew  the  people  after  the  landlord  fashion ; 
that  is,  he  knew  every  peasant  in  his  village,  and 
every  peasant's  cow,  and  almost  every  extra 
coin  in  each  peasant's  purse. 

But  if  Stavruchenko  did  not  have  hand-to- 
hand    encounters    with    his    sons,    like     Bulba, 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


151 


they  were  forever  at  odds,  regardless  of  time 
or  place.  Everywhere,  whether  at  home  or 
abroad,  endless  disputes  arose  between  the  old 
man  and  the  young  people  ;  it  usually  began  on 
the  part  of  the  old  man,  who  was  always  jeer- 
ing at  the  "ideal  Panitchis."  The  Panitchis 
would  grow  excited,  the  old  man  likewise ; 
whereupon  an  indescribable  uproar  would  ensue, 
during  which  both  sides  would  give  and  take 
some  pretty  severe  thrusts.  It  was  a  reproduc- 
tion of  the  differences  between  "  Fathers  "  and 
"Sons;"  only  in  the  southwest,  where  a  cer- 
tain courtesy  of  manner  prevails,  such  scenes  in 
the  family  circle  are  more  gracefully  managed. 

The  young  people  who  had  been  away  at 
school  from  early  childhood,  had  only  seen  the 
country  during  their  vacation,  and  therefore 
had  not  the  practical  knowledge  possessed  by 
the  father-landlords.  When  that  tidal  wave 
known  as  the  "  love  of  the  people  "  came  rush- 
ing in  upon  society,  it  found  the  young  men  in 
the   higher  classes   of  the   Gymnasium.     They 


152 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


turned  their  attention  to  the  study  of  the  lower 
classes,  seeking  their  information  at  first  in 
books.  They  soon  proceeded,  however,  to  the 
immediate  study  of  the  manifestations  of  the 
"  national  spirit  "  in  its  causes.  In  the  south- 
western districts  the  young  Panitchis,  in  their 
white  svitkas  ^  and  embroidered  shirts,  devoted 
themselves  to  the  fashionable  amusement  of 
"visiting  the  people."  They  paid  but  shght  at- 
tention to  their  economical  condition,  but  made 
notes  of  the  words  and  music  of  the  dumkas  2 
and  songs,  studied  the  traditions,  compared 
historical  events  with  the  traces  they  had  left 
upon  the  popular  mind,  and  looked  upon  the 
peasant  in  general  through  the  poetical  prism 
of  an  intellectually  popular  idealism.  Thus  the 
constant  clashing  of  opinions  diametrically  op- 
posed to  one  another  entered  into  the  disputes 
between  the  old  man  and  the  young  people, 
and  they  were  always  at  variance.     And  yet  the 

1  Sleeveless  coats.  —  Tr. 

2  A  meditation  in  the  form  of  a  sonc;-  — Tr. 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


153 


old  man  himself  listened  with   delight   to   the 
eloquent  tirades  of  the  young  fellows. 

"Just  hear  him/'  Stavruchenko  would  say  to 
Maxim,  with  a  sly  nudge  of  his  elbow,  while 
the  student  with  flushed  face  and  sparkling 
eyes  was  delivering  his  oration.  "  Hear  him, 
he  talks  Hke  a  book  !  One  might  really  imagine 
him  a  clever  man.  You  had  better  tell  us,  you 
wise-head,  how  my  Nechipor  deceived  you." 
The  old  man's  mustaches  twitched,  and  he 
laughed  heartily  as  he  related  with  a  purely 
Hohol  humor  the  tale  of  their  discomfiture. 

The  young  men  blushed,  but  they  paid  him 
back  in  his  own  coin,  saying  :  "  If  they  were 
not  famihar  with  the  Nechipors  and  Hveydkas 
in  certain  villages,  they  had  studied  the  class  as 
a  whole ;  and  from  that  point  of  view  they  de- 
duced their  generalizations.  For  the  aged  and 
experienced,  whose  habits  of  thought  are  fet- 
tered by  routine,  the  forest  is  hidden  by  the 
trees  that  stand  nearest,  but  young  men  can 
embrace  the  most  remote  perspective  at  a 
glance." 


154 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


The  old  man  was  not  displeased  to  hear  the 
learned  discourses  of  his  sons.  "  They  did  not 
go  to  school  for  nothing,"  he  often  remarked, 
"  but  I  can  tell  you  that  my  Hveydka  will  lead 
you  like  calves  by  a  rope.  That 's  the  way  it 
is  !  But  he  cannot  deceive  me,  for  I  can  stuff 
him  into  my  tobacco-pouch  and  put  him  in  my 
pocket.  You  are  nothing  but  youngsters  and 
fools  !  " 

III. 

A  discussion  of  this  sort  had  but  just  ended. 
The  older  people  returned  to  the  house,  and 
through  the  open  windows  one  could  from  time 
to  time  hear  snatches  of  Stavruchenko's  funny 
stories,  together  with  the  merry  laughter  of  his 
audience. 

The  young  people  remained  in  the  garden. 
The  student  spreading  his  svitka  on  the  ground, 
with  his  sheepskin  hat  pushed  on  one  side,  had 
stretched  himself  out  on  the  grass  with  affected 
carelessness.  His  older  brother  sat  beside 
Evelyn  on  a  bench  near  the  wall.     The  cadet, 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


155 


in  his  carefully  buttoned  uniform,  was  seated 
next  to  them ;  while  at  a  short  distance,  with 
drooping  head,  sat  the  blind  youth  leaning 
back  against  the  window-sill.  He  was  turning 
over  in  his  mind  the  discussions  he  had  just 
heard,  which  had  stirred  him  deeply,  even  to 
agitation. 

"What  did  you  think  of  all  that  was  said 
just  now,  Pani  Evelyn?"  said  the  student  turn- 
ing to  her;  "you  have  not  spoken  a  single 
word." 

"  What  you  told  your  father  is  all  very  fine ; 
but  —  " 

"Well  — but  what?" 

The  young  girl  did  not  reply  at  once.  She 
let  her  work  fall  upon  her  lap,  smoothed  it  out, 
and  slightly  bending  forward  began  to  examine 
it  as  if  it  absorbed  her  entire  attention.  It 
would  have  been  difficult  to  say  whether  she 
was  considering  the  advisability  of  using  coarser 
canvas  for  her  embroidery,  or  whether  she  was 
meditating  over  her  reply. 


156  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

Meanwhile  the  young  men  waited  impa- 
tiently. The  student,  his  face  kindling  with  in- 
terest, rose  on  his  elbow  and  turned  toward  the 
young  girl.  Her  neighbor  sat  gazing  at  her  with 
his  calm  and  questioning  eyes.  The  blind  young 
man  abandoned  his  easy  attitude,  sat  up  erect, 
and  turned  his  face  away  from  the  others. 

"  But,"  she  said  softly,  still  smoothing  out 
her  embroidery,  "  every  man  must  choose  his 
own  career,  gentlemen." 

"  Lord  bless  us ;  what  wisdom  ! "  rudely 
exclaimed  the  student.  "  Really,  how  old  are 
you,  Pani?" 

"Seventeen,"  replied  Evelyn,  simply, — 
straightway  adding,  with  an  air  of  mingled 
triumph  and  curiosity,  "■  I  suppose  you  thought 
that  I  was  a  great  deal  older,  did  n't  you?  " 

The  young  men  laughed. 

"  Had  I  been  asked  for  an  opinion  concern- 
ing your  age,"  said  her  neighbor,  "  I  should 
have  been  quite  at  a  loss  to  decide  between 
thirteen  and  twenty-three.     At  times  you  seem 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


157 


a  mere  child,  and  the  next  moment  I  hear  you 
reasoning  with  the  wisdom  of  an  aged  dame." 

"  You  must  treat  serious  matters  seriously, 
Gavrilo  Petrovitch,"  said  the  young  girl  in 
tones  of  admonition,  and  once  more  returned 
to  her  work. 

For  a  moment  all  were  still.  Evelyn  resumed 
her  needle-work  with  her  former  deliberation, 
while  the  young  men  looked  with  curiosity  at 
the  miniature  form  of  this  wise  young  person. 
Although  she  had  grown  and  developed  con- 
siderably since  the  time  of  her  first  meeting 
with  Peter,  the  student's  comments  upon  her 
age  were  quite  just.  At  the  first  glance  this 
tiny,  slender  maiden  seemed  but  a  girl,  although 
her  tranquil,  self-possessed  movements  revealed 
the  dignity  of  a  woman.  Her  face  produced 
the  same  impression.  That  type  of  face  seems 
peculiar  to  the  Slav  women.  Handsome,  regu- 
lar features,  outlined  in  calm  severity ;  blue 
eyes,  with  a  direct  and  tranquil  gaze ;  pale 
cheeks,  rarely  tinged  with  color,  —  not  however 
the  pallor  that  is  ever  ready  to  flush  with  the 


158  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

burning  flame  of  passion,  but  rather  akin  to  the 
cold  purity  of  the  snow.  Evelyn's  fair  hair, 
glossy  and  abundant,  showing  darker  reflections 
about  her  marble-like  temples,  was  drawn  back 
and  gathered  into  one  massive  braid,  which 
seemed  to  weigh  her  head  back  as  she 
walked. 

The  blind  youth,  too,  had  grown  taller  and 
more  mature.  Any  one  seeing  him  at  that 
moment,  as  he  sat  apart  from  the  group  just 
described,  pale,  agitated,  and  handsome,  would 
have  been  instantly  attracted  by  that  peculiar 
face,  upon  whose  surface  every  emotion  of  the 
soul  was  so  plainly  reflected.  His  black  hair 
waved  over  a  high  forehead  faintly  lined  by 
premature  wrinkles ;  his  cheeks  alternately 
flushed  and  grew  pale  ;  the  lower  lip,  slightly 
drooping  at  the  comers,  twitched  nervously 
from  time  to  time,  and  the  large  handsome 
eyes  with  their  unwavering  gaze  added  to  this 
eminently  South  Russian  type  of  face  a  some- 
what unusual  and  sombre  character. 

"  So  Pani  Evelyn  supposes,"  said  the  student 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  159 

in  a  sarcastic  tone,  after  a  short  pause,  "  that 
the  matters  we  have  been  discussing  here  are 
inaccessible  to  the  feminine  mind ;  that  her 
sphere  is  to  be  hmited  by  the  nursery  and 
the  kitchen." 

The  young  girl  replied  with  her  usual  serious- 
ness :  "  No,  you  are  mistaken.  I  understood 
all  that  was  said,  —  therefore  it  is  accessible  to 
a  woman's  mind.  I  spoke  only  for  myself, 
individually." 

She  became  silent  again,  and  bending  over 
her  work  seemed  so  absorbed  in  it  that  the 
young  man  had  not  the  courage  to  pursue  his 
questions. 

"Strange,"  he  muttered;  "one  might  sup- 
pose that  you  had  deliberately  planned  the 
entire  course  of  your  hfe." 

"  Why  should  that  seem  strange,  Gavrilo 
Petrovitch?"  replied  the  young  girl  gently. 
"  Probably  even  Illya  Ivanovitch  [that  was  the 
cadet's  name]  has  plans  for  the  future,  and  he 
is   younger  than  I." 


l6o  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

"  You  are  right,"  remarked  the  cadet,  flattered 
by  this  supposition.     "  Not  long  ago  I  read  the 

biography    of  N .      He  too   had   definite 

plans  for  his  life.     He  married  at  twenty,  and 
was  a  commander  at  twenty-five." 

The  student  laughed  sarcastically,  and  the 
young  girl  blushed. 

"You  see,"  she  said  a  moment  later,  in  the 
same  quiet  tone,  ''  every  one  plans  his  own 
career." 

No  one  replied,  and  a  thoughtful  silence  fell 
upon  the  young  people,  —  a  silence  beneath 
which  a  certain  awkwardness  was  evident. 
They  were  all  aware  that  the  conversation  had 
become  personal ;  and  the  rustle  of  the  darken- 
ing and  seemingly  displeased  old  garden  was 
all  the  sound   they  heard. 


IV. 

These    conversations    and    discussions,    this 
buoyant  current  of  youthful  life  charged  with  its 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  l6l 

questions,  hopes,  expectations,  and  opinions, 
came  rushing  hke  a  passionate  storm  upon  the 
bhnd  youth.  At  first  he  Hstened  to  them  with 
a  look  of  surprise,  but  it  was  not  long  before  he 
found  that  the  stream  rushed  along  paying  no 
heed  to  him.  No  questions  were  asked  him, 
neither  was  he  invited  to  give  his  opinion ;  and 
it  soon  became  evident  to  him  that  he  stood 
apart  in  a  solitude,  the  sadder  since  brought 
into  contrast  with  the  present  wide-awake  life 
of  the  mansion.  Nevertheless  he  listened  to 
all  this  that  was  so  new  to  him,  and  his  con- 
tracted brow  and  pallid  face  bore  witness  to  his 
intense  interest.  Yet  this  feeling  was  tinged 
with  gloom ;  his  brain  was  swarming  with  bitter 
thoughts. 

The  mother  looked  sorrowfully  at  her  son. 
Evelyn's  eyes  expressed  sympathy  and  alarm. 
Maxim  alone  did  not  seem  to  notice  the  im- 
pression that  this  noisy  company  made  upon  his 
nephew,  and   hospitably  invited   the   guests  to 

come  often,   assuring  the    young  men   that  he 

II 


l62  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

would  furnish  them  with  abundant  ethnographi- 
cal material  on  their  next  visit. 

The  guests  departed,  promising  to  come 
again.  The  young  men  shook  hands  cordially 
with  Peter  when  they  said  good-by.  He  ner- 
vously returned  their  pressure,  and  for  a  long 
time  listened  to  the  sound  of  the  britchka  as  it 
rolled  along  the  road.  Then  he  turned  sud- 
denly and  went  into  the  garden. 

After  the  departure  of  the  guests  everything 
at  the  manor  lapsed  into  its  former  tranquillity ; 
but  to  the  blind  youth  this  silence  seemed 
strange,  unusual,  and  peculiar.  It  implied  an 
acknowledgment  that  an  important  event  had 
taken  place  on  the  estate.  The  silent  garden- 
paths  where  he  was  wont  to  hear  only  the 
whisper  of  the  beech-trees  and  the  lilacs,  now 
resounded  in  his  fancy  with  the  echoes  of  re- 
cent conversations.  From  the  open  window  of 
the  drawing-room  he  heard  the  voices  of 
his  mother  and  Evelyn  arguing  with  Maxim. 
He  was  struck  by  the  pathetic  tone  of  entreaty 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  1 63 

in  his  mother's  voice,  while  that  ot  Evelyn  rang 
out  with  indignation  ;  Maxim  meanwhile  eagerly 
but  firmly  resisted  the  entreaties  of  the  two 
women.  Upon  Peter's  approach,  these  discus- 
sions instantly  ceased. 

Consciously,  and  with  pitiless  hand,  Maxim 
had  made  the  first  breach  in  the  wall  which  till 
now  encompassed  his  nephew's  world.  The 
first  noisy  and  tumultuous  wave  had  already 
made  its  way  through  this  breach,  and  the 
equilibrium  of  the  young  man's  soul  was  shaken 
by  its  onslaught.  Now  he  realized  the  limita- 
tions of  his  magic  circle ;  the  quiet  of  the 
estate  seemed  oppressive  to  him,  the  indolent 
whisper  and  rustle  of  the  old  garden  hung  like 
a  weight  upon  the  peaceful  dream  of  his  young 
soul.  Something  wavered  to  and  fro  in  the 
darkness,  pressing  toward  him  with  wistful  and 
enticing  eagerness.  It  called  and  beckoned, 
awakening  the  questions  that  had  been  slum- 
bering within  him.  The  pallor  of  his  face 
and  a  dull   indefinite    sense    of  misery  in   his 


тб4  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

soul  were  the  visible  signs  that  the  summons 
was  heard.  Maxim  meanwhile  was  preparing 
for  a  second  breach. 

V. 

When  in  the  course  of  two  weeks  the  young 
men  accompanied  by  their  father  came  to  re- 
peat their  visit,  Evelyn  received  them  with  a 
certain  coolness.  But  she  found  it  hard  to 
resist  the  charming  animation  of  youth.  All 
day  long  the  young  men  roamed  about  the 
village,  hunting  and  taking  notes  of  the  songs 
of  the  reapers ;  and  in  the  evening  they  as- 
sembled as  before  around  the  bench,  near  the 
mansion. 

On  one  of  these  evenings,  before  Evelyn 
realized  the  fact,  the  conversation  had  turned 
to  subjects  of  a  somewhat  personal  character. 
Neither  could  the  others  have  told  how  this 
had  come  about ;  it  had  been  as  imperceptible 
as  the  fading  of  the  evening  twilight,  or  the 
falling  of  the  shadows  in  the  garden,  —  as  im- 


THE    BLIND   MUSICIAN.  1 65 

perceptible  as  the  first  notes  of  the  nightingale's 
song  among  the  bushes.  The  young  student 
spoke  passionately,  with  a  proud  air  of  triumph, 
and  with  all  that  ardor  peculiar  to  youth,  which 
regardless  of  selfish  calculations  rushes  to  meet 
the  unknown  future.  There  was  a  strange  fas- 
cination in  this  ardent  faith,  and  something  also 
akin  to  the  indomitable  power  of  a  challenge. 

The  young  girl  blushed,  foi*  she  felt  that  this 
challenge  was  perhaps  unconsciously  directed 
at  her.  She  bent  low  over  her  work  as  she 
listened.  Her  eyes  sparkled,  her  face  flushed, 
her  heart  throbbed.  The  light  faded  from  her 
eyes,  her  face  grew  pale,  she  compressed  her 
lips ;  while  her  heart  continued  to  beat  still 
more  violently,  and  a  look  of  alarm  came  over 
her  features.  She  was  frightened,  for  under 
the  influence  of  this  student's  words,  the  dark 
garden  wall  seemed  to  part  before  her  eyes, 
and  through  the  opening  she  saw  the  far-away 
vista  of  a  vast  world  full  of  life  and  activity. 
She  was  startled.     It  seemed  to  her  that  some 


1 66  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

one  was  about  to  pluck  the  knife  from  out  her 
former  wound. 

This  however  was  of  short  duration.  Evelyn 
could  control  her  own  life ;  of  that  she  was 
well  aware.  She  had  arrived  at  a  decision  in 
regard  to  her  future  life,  and  this  decision  was 
to  be  final ;  she  had  deliberated  long  concern- 
ing her  first  step  in  life,  and  proposed  to  act 
in  accordance  with  her  plan.  This  being  ac- 
complished, she  would  try  to  make  the  most  of 
life.  She  turned  her  deep  blue  eyes  from  the 
student  and  looked  toward  the  spot  where 
Peter  had  been  sitting.  But  he  was  no  longer 
there. 

Then  quietly  folding  her  work  Evelyn  rose 
also.  "  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  she  said,  ad- 
dressing the  guests,  ''  if  I  leave  you  to  your- 
selves for  a  while."  And  she  started  along  the 
garden-path. 

Evelyn  was  not  the  only  person  who  had 
felt  disturbed  this  evening.  At  the  turn  of  the 
path,  where    the    settle  had   been  placed,   the 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  167 

young  girl  heard  the  agitaced  voices,  of  Maxim 
and  his  sister. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  of  her  in  this  connection  no 
less  than  I  did  of  him^"  the  old  man  was  say- 
ing ;  and  his  tone  was  harsh.  "  I  cannot  be- 
lieve that  you  wish  to  take  advantage  of  the 
ignorance  of  a  mere  child." 

Tears  were  in  the  voice  of  Anna  Michailovna 
as  she  replied,  ^^■  But  Max,  what  if —  if  she 
—     What  will  become  of  ray  boy?  " 

Maxim  had  no  time  to  reply.  The  young 
girl  who  had  paused  instinctively  at  the  turning, 
now  quickly  advanced,  and  with  proudly  erect 
head  walked  past  the  speakers.  Maxim  invol- 
untarily drew  up  his  crutch  that  it  might  not  be 
in  her  way,  and  Anna  Michailovna  looked  at 
her  with  an  expression  of  love,  mingled  with 
adoration  almost  amounting  to  awe.  The 
mother  seemed  conscious  that  this  fair  proud 
girl,  who  had  just  passed  by  with  a  look  so 
angry  and  defiant,  held  in  her  hands  the  happi- 
ness or  unhappiness  of  her  зон. 


I  68  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

VI. 

A  ruined  and  abandoned  mill  stood  in  the 
garden.  The  wheels  had -ceased  to  turn,  the  cyl- 
inders were  overgrown  with  moss,  and  the  water 
trickled  through  the  old  locks  in  slender,  never- 
ceasing  streams.  This  was  the  blind  youth's 
favorite  resort.  Here  he  would  spend  hours 
on  the  parapet  of  the  dam,  listening  to  the 
sound  of  the  trickling  water,  which  he  later 
reproduced  to  perfection  on  the  piano.  But 
now  he  was  thinking  of  other  things.  Rapidly 
he  trod  the  path,  his  heart  filled  with  bitterness, 
and  his  face  distorted  by  suffering.  He  paused 
when  he  heard  the  young  girl's  light  step ;  ac- 
customed as  he  was  to  confide  all  his  feel- 
ings to  her,  he  felt  no  embarrassment  in  her 
presence. 

Evelyn  rested  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  as 
she  asked, — "What  is  it?  Why  are  you  so 
sad?" 

He  did  not  reply  at  first,  but  turning,  began 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  169 

once  more  to  pace    up    and    down   the    path. 
The  young  girl  walked  beside  him. 

Thus  a  few  minutes  went  by  in  silence.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  presence  of  Evelyn  had  a 
tranquillizing  influence  upon  Peter's  mood ;  the 
keen  pain  diminished,  his  face  grew  more 
peaceful ;  the  flood  of  sadness  that  had  over- 
whelmed his  soul  began  to  subside,  and  a  new 
sense  of  mingled  pleasure  and  expectancy  had 
taken  possession  of  him.  This  feeling,  to  whose 
healing  influence  h.e  had  often  yielded,  he  had 
never  yet  made  an  attempt  to  analyze.  And 
now  again  his  mood  grew  tender,  although  a 
shade  of  sadness  stfll  remained. 

''  Of  course  it  made  me  feel  sad,"  he  said, 
after  a  moment's  silence ;  ''  because  I  under- 
stood their  words,  although  they  were  not 
directed  toward  me.  I  am  useless,  quite  use- 
less in  the  world.  And  why  was  I  born 
into  it?" 

The  girl  glanced  up  at  him  with  a  look  of 
alarm,    and    then    as    if   with    settled    purpose 


170 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN 


she  bent  her  head  and  resumed  her  walk  by 
his  side. 

The  bhnd  youth  stopped  short.  ^^Vhy,  I 
ask,  was  I  born  into  the  world?  And  another 
thing  —  It  may  perhaps  be  true,  as  old  people 
say,  that  affairs  have  changed  for  the  worse ; 
yet  in  old  times  the  blind  fared  better  than 
they  do  now.  There  was  work  for  them,  and 
they  had  a  place  in  life.  Why  was  I  not  born 
in  times  when  blind  minstrels  used  to  wander 
from  place  to  place?  I  would  then  take  my 
lyre,  or  bandur,^  and  go  from  city  to  city  and 
through  the  villages  and  distant  steppes,  and 
wherever  I  appeared  the  people  would  gather 
around  me,  while  I  sang  to  them  of  the  deeds 
of  their  fathers,  glorious  and  heroic,  stirring 
their  holiest  feelings,  and  inspiring  them  with 
energy  and  courage.  Thus  I  too  could  play  a 
part  in  life.  But  now,  even  that  cadet  with 
his  shrill  voice,  —  you  heard  what  he  said 
about  marrying  and  being  a  commander.    They 

1  Musical  instrument,  resembling  a  lute. 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


171 


laughed  at  him ;  but  for  me  even  that  is 
unattainable." 

Tears  came  into  the  young  girl's  eyes,  widen- 
ing with  alarm.  "  You  are  excited  by  the 
student's  talk."  She  tried  to  speak  lightly,  but 
her  agitation  betrayed  itself  in  her  voice. 

"Yes,"  replied  Peter,  thoughtfully;  "and 
what  an  agreeable  fellow  he  is  !  He  has  a  very 
pleasing  voice." 

"Yes,  he  is  agreeable,"  said  Evelyn,  ab- 
stractedly ;  and  her  tone  evinced  a  certain  ten- 
derness. Then  as  if  vexed  with  herself  she 
suddenly  exclaimed  in  a  passionate  voice : 
"  No,  I  don't  like  him  at  all  !  He  has  too  much 
self-assurance ;  and  I  think  his  voice  is  harsh 
and  disagreeable." 

Peter  listened  in  surprise  to  this  angry  sally. 
The  girl  stamped  her  foot  as  she  went  on : 

"  And  it  is  all  the  most  perfect  folly !  I 
know  it  has  been  a  plan  of  Maxim's  contriving. 
Oh,  how  it  makes  me  hate  him  !  " 

"  Why,  Velya,"  expostulated  the  blind  youth, 


172  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

''  how  can  you  blame  Uncle  Maxim  for  what  has 
happened? " 

"  Oh,  he  thinks  himself  extremely  clever ; 
and  he  has  destroyed  every  vestige  of  humanity 
within  his  breast  by  all  these  plans  and  schemes. 
Don't  speak  to  me  of  those  people  !  I  should 
like  to  know  how  they  gained  the  right  to 
arrange  other  people's  lives?"  She  stopped 
abruptly,  clenched  her  slender  hands  and  burst 
into  a  flood  of  childlike  tears. 

Peter  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it  sympa- 
thetically. He  was  taken  by  surprise.  This 
outburst  from  the  usually  calm  and  self-con- 
trolled girl  was  both  unexpected  and  mysterious. 
As  he  listened  to  her  weeping  he  was  conscious 
of  a  new  and  peculiar  emotion  stirring  within 
his  breast. 

Suddenly  she  gave  him  a  fresh  surprise  by 
withdrawing  her  hand  and  bursting  into  a  fit  of 
laughter.  "  How  silly  I  am  !  What  in  the 
world  am  I  crying  about?"  She  wiped  her 
eyes  and  went  on  good-naturedly  :     "  One  must 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  I  73 

be  just.  They  are  both  good,  honest  men,  and 
what  he  said  was  all  very  well !  But  it  does  not 
apply  to  every  one." 

"  To  every  one  who  has  the  power,"  replied 
the  blind  youth,  scarce  audibly. 

"What  nonsense!"  she  answered  brightly; 
but  in  spite  of  her  cheerfulness  the  traces  of 
recent  tears  could  still  be  detected  in  her  voice. 
"  Take  Maxim  for  instance ;  he  fought  as  long 
as  he  was  able,  and  now  he  lives  as  best  he 
may.     And  we  also  —  " 

^^  You  say  we'>  Why  do  you  say  that?  "  in- 
terrupted Peter. 

"  Because  —  well  —  because  sometime  you 
will  marry  me,  and  our  lives  will  be  one.'^^ 

Strangely  confused  and  yet  rejoicing,  the 
blind  young  man  drew  back  a  step.  "I  — 
marry  you  ?  You  mean  —  that  you  will  — 
marry  me?  " 

"Why,  of  course,  of  course!"  she  replied 
with  mingled  haste  and  agitation.  '•'  How  dull 
you  must  be  !     Can  it    be    possible   that   you 


174 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


have  never  thought  of  it  ?  It  seems  so  natural ! 
Whom  could  you  marry  if  not  me?  " 

"  To  be  sure,"  he  assented  in  his  inconsider- 
ate egotism.  But  instantly  reflecting, —  "  Have 
you  forgotten,  Velya,"  he  said,  taking  her  by  the 
band,  "  what  these  young  men  have  just  been 
telling  us  about  the  education  that  girls  receive 
in  the  great  cities  ?  Consider  what  a  career  lies 
open  before  you,  while  I  —  " 

''  Well,  what  about  you  ?  " 

"I  —  am  blind!"  he  ended  in  a  somewhat 
illogical  conclusion^ 

The  girl  smiled,  but  continued  in  the  same 
tone  :  "  What  if  you  are  blind  ?  I  love  you  even 
so ;  hence  it  follows  that  I  must  marry  you. 
That  is  the  way  things  happen ;  what  can  we 
do  about  it?  " 

He  also  smiled,  and  dropped  his  head  after 
his  usual  pensive  fashion,  as  though  he  were 
listening  to  some  voice  within  his  souL  No 
sound  could  be  heard  save  the  gentle  rippling 
of    the    water :     and    even    that    low    murmur 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  I  75 


seemed  at  times  to  die  away,  but  only  to  return 
with  greater  force,  and  ripple  on  forever.  The 
leaves  of  the  luxuriant  wild  cherry-tree  whis- 
pered to  one  another,  and  the  last  pensive  trills 
of  the  nightingale's  song  echoed  through  the 
garden. 

By  this  bold,  unexpected,  and  yet  gentle 
stroke  the  young  girl  had  dispelled  the  lowering 
cloud  that  darkened  the  blind  youth's  heart. 
Inspired  by  the  new  feeling  that  had  taken  pos- 
session of  his  whole  being,  he  fervently  pressed 
her  little  hand  in  his.  A  faint  almost  imper- 
ceptible pressure  was  the  response.  Then  he 
clasped  her  round  the  waist  and  drew  her 
toward  him,  gently  stroking  her  silken  hair  with 
his  other  hand. 

*'  Please,  let  me  go,  darling,"  said  the  young 
girl,  in  low,  shy  tones  as  she  released  herself 
from  his  embrace. 

Evelyn's  soft  voice  thrilled  the  blind  youth's 
heart.  He  made  no  effort  to  detain  her,  but  as 
he  yielded  he   heaved  a   profound    sigho     He 


176  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

heard  her  smoothing  her  hair.  His  heart 
throbbed  in  deep  but  pleasing  excitement,  and 
he  could  feel  the  hot  blood  surging  with  a  force 
hitherto  unknown.  And  when  a  moment  later 
she  said  to  him,  "  Come,  let  us  go  back  to  the 
company,"  he  heard  with  delight  and  surprise 
a  new  music  in  her  charming  voice. 


VII. 

The  hosts  were  in  the  little  drawing-room, 
and  all  the  guests  had  likewise  assembled  there  ; 
the  only  missing  members  were  Peter  and 
Evelyn.  Maxim  was  conversing  with  his  old 
comrade,  and  the  young  men  sat  in  silence 
beside  the  open  windows.  One  could  not  fail 
to  observe  the  strangely  quiet  yet  expectant  air 
that  brooded  over  this  little  circle,  as  if  each 
one  had  a  premonition  of  an  impending  crisis. 
Although  Maxim  never  interrupted  his  conver- 
sation, he  kept  all  the  while  throwing  swift,  im- 
patient glances  toward  the  door.    Pani  Popelska 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  1  77 


was  trying  to  play  the  amiable  and  devoted 
hostess,  but  her  face  bore  a  sad  and  almost 
guilty  look.  Pan  Popelski  alone,  who  had 
grown  a  good  deal  stouter,  but  had  lost  none  of 
his  amiability,  sat  quietly  dozing  in  his  chair, 
waiting  for  supper. 

All  eyes  turned  in  that  direction  when  foot- 
steps were  heard  on  the  terrace  which  led  from 
the  garden  into  the  drawing-room.  Within  the 
broad,  dusky  doorway  appeared  the  figure  of 
Evelyn  with  the  blind  youth  slowly  mounting 
the  steps  behind  her.  The  young  girl,  although 
conscious  that  every  eye  rested  upon  her,  was 
not  in  the  least  embarrassed.  Crossing  the 
room  with  her  usual  composure,  she  smiled 
slightly  as  she  met  the  glance  that  Maxim 
darted  at  her  from  beneath  his  brows,  and  her 
own  eyes  flashed  back  defiance.  Maxim  grew 
suddenly  abstracted,  and  replied  at  random 
when  a  question  was  directly  addressed  to  him. 
Pani  Popelska  watched  her  son. 

The  young  man  followed  the  m.aiden,  giving 


12 


178  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

no  apparent  heed  to  the  direction  in  which  she 
was  leading  him.  When  his  slender  form  and 
pale  face  appeared  against  the  background  of 
the  doorway,  he  seemed  to  pause  on  the  thresh- 
old of  that  room  so  brightly  lighted  and  filled 
with  guests  ;  but  after  a  moment's  hesitation  he 
crossed  it  with  the  air  of  one  both  absent- 
minded  and  intensely  absorbed,  went  up  to  the 
piano,  and  opened  it. 

For  the  moment  Peter  seemed  utterly  uncon- 
scious of  his  surroundings,  forgetful  of  the  pres- 
ence of  strangers,  and  instinctively  longing  for 
his  favorite  instrument  as  a  vent  whereby  to 
express  the  emotions  that  were  filling  his  bosom. 
Having  raised  the  piano- lid,  with  his  fingers 
resting  lightly  on  the  keys  he  struck  a  few  rapid 
chords.  It  was  as  if  he  were  putting  a  question, 
half  to  the  instrument  and  half  to  his  own  soul. 
Then  with  his  hands  still  resting  on  the  keys, 
he  remained  plunged  in  deep  thought,  while 
utter  silence  reigned  in  the  little  drawing-room. 
The  night  looked  in  through  the  dusky  windows, 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


179 


and  here  and  there  clusters  of  green  leaves 
shming  in  the  lamplight  peered  curiously  in 
from  the  garden.  The  guests,  their  attention 
aroused  by  these  few  whispering  chords,  and 
influenced  more  or  less  by  the  strange  inspira- 
tion that  seemed  to  radiate  from  the  face  of 
the  blind  youth,  sat  in  silent  expectation. 

But  Peter  remained  as  before,  his  eyes  up- 
lifted as  if  he  were  listening.  Mingled  emotions 
chased  one  another  like  billows  through  his 
heart.  He  had  been  uplifted  by  the  tide  of  a 
new  life,  —  even  as  a  boat,  after  a  long  and 
peaceful  rest  upon  the  sandy  shore,  is  suddenly 
tossed  upward  by  the  waves.  Question,  surprise, 
and  unwonted  excitement  filled  his  mind.  The 
blind  eyes  dilating,  alternately  sparkled  and 
grew  dim.  For  a  moment  one  might  imagine 
that  he  had  not  found  within  his  soul  the  re- 
sponse for  which  he  so  eagerly  listened  ;  but  all 
at  once,  with  the  same  eager  face,  as  though  he 
could  no  longer  wait,  he  started,  touched  the 
keys,   and  upborne  by  new  waves  of  emotion 


т8о  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

surrendered  himself  to  the  tide  that  swept  on- 
ward in  full,  resonant,  and  tumultuous  chords. 
They  gave  voice  to  the  countless  memories  of 
his  past  life  which  had  thronged  upon  him,  as 
with  drooping  head  he  sat  there  listening.  The 
multitudinous  voices  of  Nature,  the  moaning  of 
the  wind,  the  whispering  of  the  forest,  the 
ripple  of  the  river,  and  that  indefinite  murmur 
which  is  lost  in  the  remote  distance  could  be 
heard,  intermingling,  forming  a  sort  of  back- 
ground for  the  deep  and  inscrutable  agitation 
that  swells  the  heart  and  leaps  up  in  the  soul 
at  the  bidding  of  Nature's  mysterious  whisper, 
—  a  feeling  not  easily  defined.  Sadness?  — 
why  then  is  it  so  sweet  ?  Joy  ?  —  then  why  is 
it  so  profoundly,  so  inexplicably  sad? 

All  this  was  evoked  by  the  blind  musician's 
fingers,  in  low  soft  tones,  at  first  hesitating  and 
vague.  His  imagination  strove  as  it  were  to 
gain  control  over  this  flood  of  chaotic  images, 
and  without  success.  Those  powerful  and  de- 
pressing influences  of  an   impetuous  and   pas- 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  l8l 

sionate  nature,  confused  and  vague  though  they 
were,  had  taken  full  possession  of  the  musician, 
but  were  as  yet  wholly  beyond  his  control. 
From  time  to  time  the  sounds  grew  in  volume 
and  power.  One  felt  that  the  player  must  pres- 
ently combine  them  into  a  melodious  and  per- 
fect flood  of  harmony,  and  his  audience  listened 
in  breathless  expectation,  Maxim  wondering  all 
the  while  as  to  the  cause  of  the  unusual  depth 
of  feeling  displayed.  But  before  the  flood  had 
time  to  rise  to  its  full  height,  it  suddenly  sub- 
sided into  a  plaintive  murmur,  like  a  wave 
breaking  into  foam  and  spray ;  and  again  noth- 
ing was  heard  but  the  sad  lingering  notes,  that 
rang  like  questions  in  the  air. 

The  blind  man  paused  for  a  moment,  but 
the  silence  in  the  drawing-room  remained  un- 
interrupted, save  by  the  rustling  noise  of  the 
leaves  in  the  garden.  The  fascination  which 
had  transported  his  listeners  far  beyond  these 
walls  suddenly  vanished,  and  until  the  musician 
again  struck  the  keys  of  the   instrument   they 


I  82  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

realized  that  they  were  seated  in  a  small  room, 
with  the  dark  night  peering  in  at  the  windows. 
Again  the  sounds  rose  and  fell  as  if  vainly  seek- 
ing after  the  unknown.  Charming  folk-songs 
were  interwoven  with  the  vague  harmony  of  the 
chords.  —  songs  telling  of  love  and  sorrow,  or 
reminiscences  of  the  glories  and  sufferings  of 
by-gone  days,  or  the  eager  impetuosity  of  youth 
and  hope,  —  the  blind  man  thus  striving  to 
express  his  feelings  by  embodying  them  in 
forms  already  familiar  to  his  imagination.  But 
the  song  too  ended  with  the  same  minor  note, 
—  like  an  unanswered  question  echoing  through 
the  silence  of  the  little  drawing-room. 

Then  for  the  third  time  Peter  began  to  play 
a  piece  which  he  had  once  learned  by  heart,  — 
and  again  broke  off. 

Possibly  he  had  hoped  to  find  the  musical 
genius  of  the  composer  in  sympathy  with  his 
mood. 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  183 


VIII. 

It  is  a  very  difficult  matter  for  a  blind  man 
to  play  by  note.  These  are  printed  in  relief 
like  the  letters  which  they  use ;  each  note  has 
its  special  sign,  and  stands  in  a  row  like  the 
lines  of  a  book.  To  designate  the  notes  that 
form  the  chords,  raised  points  are  placed  be- 
tween them.  It  is  of  course  a  difficult  and 
complicated  task  for  a  blind  person  to  learn 
these  by  heart,  each  hand  separately ;  but  in 
Peter's  case  the  labor  was  lightened  by  his  love 
for  the  integral  parts  of  the  work.  Memorizing 
a  few  chords  for  one  hand  at  a  time,  he  would 
place  himself  at  the  piano ;  and  when,  from  the 
combining  of  these  hieroglyphics  in  relief,  all  of 
a  sudden  surprising  harmonies  resulted,  it  gave 
him  a  delight  keen  enough  to  enliven  the  other- 
wise dull  work,  and  render  it  fascinating. 

Yet  even  so,  there  still  remained  a  weary 
way  between  the  printed  sheets  of  music  and 
the   execution  of  the  same ;    for  in  order  that 


184  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

the  signs  might  be  embodied  in  melody,  the 
hands  had  first  to  transmit  them  to  the  memory, 
and  the  memory  in  its  turn  to  send  them  back 
to  the  fingers.  Meanwhile,  however,  Peter's 
strongly  developed  musical  instinct  and  imagi- 
nation, that  had  already  taken  a  definite  form, 
began  to  play  a  part  in  the  complicated  labor 
of  memorizing,  and  to  stamp  the  work  of  the 
composer  with  the  distinct  impress  of  the 
player's  own  individuality.  Thus  far  the  form 
which  his  musical  feeling  had  taken,  was  for 
the  most  part  derived  from  his  mother's  play- 
ing. All  Nature  spoke  to  his  soul  in  the  lan- 
guage and  music  of  the  folk-songs  of  his  native 
land. 

While  with  beating  heart  and  soul  overflowing 
with  emotion,  Peter  now  played  this  piece,  from 
the  very  first  resonant  chords  there  was  such 
brilliancy,  animation,  and  genuine  feeling,  and 
at  the  same  time  something  so  characteristic  of 
the  player,  that  an  expression  of  wonder  was 
mingled  with  delight  on  the  faces  of  the  listen- 


THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN.  185 


ers.  The  next  moment,  however,  the  wonder 
was  wholly  merged  in  delight ;  and  the  elder 
Stavruchenko's  son,  a  professional  musician,  as 
he  listened,  strove  for  a  long  time  to  follow  the 
familiar  piece,  and  at  the  same  time  to  analyze 
the  peculiar  •'•  style  "  of  the  pianist. 

Music  recognizes  no  party ;  it  stands  aloof 
from  the  clashing  of  opinions.  If  the  eyes  of 
the  young  people  sparkled  and  their  faces 
flushed,  and  daring  conceptions  of  future  life 
and  happhiess  sprang  up  in  their  minds,  so 
also  the  eyes  of  the  old  sceptic  sparkled  with 
animation. 

At  first  old  Stavruchenko  sat  with  bowed 
head,  listening  in  silence ;  but  little  by  Httle  he 
grew  animated,  and  gently  touching  Maxim 
whispered,  "  How  finely  he  plays  !  Wonder- 
fully, it  must  be  confessed  !     By  Jove  !  —  " 

As  the  sounds  swelled  a  thought  came  into  his 
mind,  probably  of  his  youth ;  for  his  eyes 
sparkled,  his  face  flushed,  he  straightened  him- 
self, and  raising  his  arm  seemed  about  to  dash 


1 86  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

his  clenched  hand  upon  the  table,  but  restrain- 
ing himself,  allowed  it  to  fall  silently.  Casting 
one  rapid  glance  at  his  boys,  he  stroked  his 
mustache,  and  leaning  toward  Maxim,  whis- 
pered :  "  They  talk  of  putting  us  old  people 
into  the  archives.  Nonsense  !  There  was  a 
time  when  you  and  I  —  And  even  now  — 
Is  it  not  true?  " 

Anna  Michailovna  looked  inquiringly  at 
Evelyn.  The  girl  had  folded  her  work  on  her 
knees,  and  sat  watching  the  blind  musician 
but  her  blue  eyes  expressed  nothing  beyond  a 
rapt  attention.  She  was  interpreting  those 
sounds  in  her  own  way ;  she  fancied  she  could 
hear  in  them  the  pattering  sound  of  the  water 
in  the  old  locks,  and  the  whisper  of  the  wild 
cherry-tree  in  the  dusky  avenue. 


IX. 

But  the  face  of  the  blind  man  showed  none 
of  the  rapture  that  had  taken  possession  of  his 


THE    BLIND   MUSICIAN.  187 

audience.  It  was  plain  that  even  this  piece 
had  not  given  him  the  satisfaction  he  was  look- 
ing for.  The  last  notes  vibrated  like  the  others, 
intimating  the  same  question,  —  a  murmur  of 
dissatisfaction ;  and  as  the  mother  looked  at 
her  son's  face  she  saw  in  it  an  expression  which 
was  familiar  to  her.  The  sunny  day  of  that 
far-away  spring  was  revived  in  her  memory, 
when  her  boy  lay  prostrated  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  overcome  by  the  too  vivid  emotions  of 
the  new  and  exciting  world  of  spring.  This 
expression  however  rested  but  for  a  moment  on 
Peter's  face,  then  vanished. 

Now  the  hum  of  voices  filled  the  parlor. 
Stavruchenko  embraced  the  musician  with  en- 
thusiasm. "  By  Jove  !  my  dear  fellow,  you  play 
finely  !     That  is  the  kind  of  playing  we  like  !  " 

The  young  people,  still  excited  and  agitated, 
were  shaking  hands  with  him.  The  student 
prophesied  a  world-wide  fame  for  him  as  an 
artist.  "That  is  true,"  assented  the  elder 
brother.     ''You  are  fortunate  to  have  become 


1 88  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN, 

thoroughly  famiUar  with  the  character  of  the 
folk-songs.  You  are  a  perfect  master  in  that 
domain.  But  will  you  tell  me,  please,  what 
was  the  last  piece  you  played  ?  " 

Peter  gave  the  name  of  an  Italian  piece. 

"  I  thought  so,"  replied  the  young  man.  "  I 
am  somewhat  familiar  with  it.  You  have  a 
remarkably  original  style.  Many  play  it  more 
correctly  than  you,  but  no  one  has  ever  yet 
played  it  with  such  effect." 

"  Why  do  you  think  that  others  play  it  more 
correctly?  "   asked  his  brother. 

"  Well  —  how  can  I  convey  my  meaning  ?  I 
have  always  heard  it  performed  just  as  it  is 
written.  While  this  sounds  like  a  translation 
from  the  Italian  into  Little  Russian." 

The  blind  man  listened  attentively.  It  was  a 
new  thing  for  him  to  be  the  centre  of  animated 
conversation,  and  he  was  proud  to  feel  his 
power.  So  he  too  might  accomplish  something 
in  life  ! 

As  he  sat  there,  with  his  hand  resting  on  the 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  189 


music-rack,  listening  to  all  this  talk,  suddenly  a 
warm  touch  fell  on  his  hand.  It  was  Evelyn, 
who  had  drawn  near,  and  who  now  with  a  fugi- 
tive pressure  of  his  fingers  whispered  joyously : 
"  You  hear  ?  You  too  will  have  work  in  the 
world.  If  you  could  only  see  the  effect  you 
produce  on  others  by  your  playing  !  " 

The    bhnd    man    started    and    drew    himself 
erect.     No    one   but   the   mother  noticed   this 
little  interlude.     Her  face  flushed  as  deeply  as 
if  she  had  just  received  the  first  kiss  of  a  new- 
born and  passionate  love. 

The  blind  man  still  remained  on  the  same 
spot,  and  his  face  had  not  yet  lost  its  pallor. 
Overwhelmed  as  he  was  by  the  impressions  of 
his  new  happiness,  he  may  also  have  felt  the 
approach  of  the  storm  that  like  a  dark  and 
shapeless  cloud  was  rising  out  of  the  depths  of 
his  brain. 


VI 


VI 


%AM  "АТТЕПРТ- AT-^YNTfiE5l 


^iSyhkhe_3,i^°  On  the  following  day  the 
blind  man  awoke  early.  All  was  quiet  in  his 
room,  neither  was  there  as  yet  any  movement 
in  the  house.  Through  the  window  which  had 
remained  open  into  the  garden  during  the  night 
came  the  freshness  of  the  early  morning.  His 
memory  had  not  yet  recalled  to  him  the  events 
of  the  previous  day,  but  his  whole  being  was 
filled  with  a  new  and  unusual  sensation. 

13 


194  '^'^^   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

Peter  lay  for  several  moments  in  bed,  listen- 
ing to  the  twitter  of  a  bird  in  the  garden  and 
to  the  feelings  stirring  within  his  own  heart. 
*' What  has  happened  to  me?"  he  thought; 
and  at  this  very  moment  the  words  which  were 
spoken  to  him  in  the  twilight,  near  the  old 
mill,  flashed  into  his  mind  :  "  Is  it  possible  that 
you  had  never  thought  of  this?  How  dull 
you  are." 

It  was  true,  Peter  had  never  thought  of  it. 
Evelyn's  presence  had  always  been  a  joy  to 
him,  but  until  yesterday  he  had  never  realized 
the  fact,  any  more  than  one  realizes  the  air  he 
breathes.  Those  simple  words  had  fallen  into 
his  soul  like  a  pebble  upon  the  glassy  surface  of 
a  stream  :  one  moment  it  was  placid,  serenely 
reflecting  the  sunlight  and  the  blue  sky,  —  a 
toss  of  the  pebble,  and  it  is  shaken  to  its  very 
depths.  Now  he  awoke  like  one  newly  born, 
and  Evelyn  —  his  old  companion — appeared 
to  him  in  an  altered  light.  As  he  recalled  one 
by  one   the    incidents  of  yesterday,  even   the 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  I  95 


most  minute,  he  heard  with  fresh  surprise  the 
accents  of  her  altered  voice  as  reproduced  by 
his  imagination,  —  "  How  stupid  you  are  !  " 
"  Don't,   my   darhng  !  " 

Instantly  Peter  rose,  dressed  himself,  and  ran 
through  the  dewy  garden  to  the  old  mill.  The 
water  was  murmuring  and  the  wild-cherry  bushes 
whispering  the  same  as  ever,  —  only  then  it  had 
been  dark,  and  now  it  was  a  bright  sunny  morn- 
ing. Never  before  had  light  produced  so  pal- 
pable an  effect  upon  him.  The  bright  rays  of 
the  cheerful  sun  seemed  to  mingle  with  the 
dewy  fragrance  and  the  universal  freshness  of 
the  early  morning,  stirring  his  nerves  to  a  gentle 
excitement. 

But  together  with  this  pleasing  agitation  there 
arose  in  the  inmost  depths  of  the  blind  man's 
heart  another  and  a  different  feeling,  so  vague 
and  shapeless  that  at  first  he  did  not  even 
realize  its  presence ;  but  gradually  it  grew 
to  be  a  part  of  himself,  like  the  strain  of  mel- 
ancholy that  sometimes  weaves  itself  impercep- 


196  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

tibly  through  a  merry  song.  It  rose  from  the 
depths  of  his  soul  as  from  small  begmnings  a 
heavy  cloud  gathers  in  the  heated  atmosphere ; 
and  just  as  a  cloud  is  expanded  by  rain,  so  was 
this  emotion  deepened  by  rising  tears,  until  it 
grew  to  predominate  over  every  other  feeling. 
It  was  but  recently  that  her  words  had  sounded 
in  his  ears,  and  he  could  remember  every 
detail  of  that  first  explanation ;  he  seemed  still 
to  feel  her  silken  hair  and  to  hear  the  throbbing 
of  her  heart  against  his  own.  And  out  of  all 
this  he  wrought  an  image  that  made  his  own 
heart  beat  with  joy.  Yet  now  a  dark  and 
shapeless  "  something "  rises  to  blight  this 
image  with  its  poisonous  breath,  and  to  cause 
it  to  vanish  into  empty  air. 

In  vain  did  Peter  go  afterward  to  the  mill 
and  spend  hours  at  a  time  there,  beset  by  con- 
tending feelings,  endeavoring  to  recall  to  his 
imagination  Evelyn's  words,  her  voice,  and  her 
movements.  He  had  lost  the  power  that  once 
he  possessed  of  uniting  them  in  one  harmonious 


THE    BLIND  MUSICIAN,  I97 

whole.  From  the  very  beginning  there  had  been 
Ш  intangible  "  something "  that  he  had  been 
unable  to  grasp ;  and  now  this  "  something  " 
ivas  rising  above  his  head,  as  a  storm-cloud 
rises  from  the  horizon.  The  sound  of  her  voice 
was  hushed,  all  the  impressions  of  that  happy 
evening  had  grown  dim,  and  behold  a  void  was 
in  their  place,  to  fill  which  void  there  rose  from 
the  depths  of  the  blind  man's  soul  a  yearning 
desire.  He  longed  to  see  her.  The  sudden 
shock  that  had  roused  that  evenly  balanced 
youthful  nature  from  its  brief  slumber  had  like- 
wise awakened  the  fatal  element  that  contained 
within  itself  the  germs  of  irrepressible  suffering. 
He  loved  her,  and  longed  to  see  her. 


П. 

Their  guests  had  once  more  left  them,  and 
life  returned  to  its  usual  regularity  at  the  Popel- 
ski  manor  ;  but  the  temper  of  the  blind  man 
had  undergone  a  decided  change.     It  had  be- 


198  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

come  variable  and  easily  agitated.  When  at 
times  his  happy  moments  rose  vividly  before 
him,  he  grew  more  cheerful,  and  his  face  bright- 
ened. But  this  did  not  last  long ;  and  in  the 
course  of  time  even  these  cheerful  moments 
were  dimmed  by  the  fear  that  they  were  about 
to  vanish,  never  to  return.  Thus  his  temper 
grew  very  uneven ;  outbursts  of  demonstrative 
affection  and  of  extreme  nervous  excitement 
were  often  succeeded  by  days  of  secret  gloom 
and  melancholy.  And  at  last  the  mother's 
worst  fears  were  realized, —  the  fevered  dreams 
of  childhood  returned  to  the  youth. 

One  morning  Anna  Mich^ilovna  went  into 
her  son's  room.  He  was  still  sleeping,  but  with 
a  strange  and  restless  sort  of  slumber.  His 
eyes  were  partly  open,  and  seemed  to  peer  from 
beneath  his  eyelids ;  his  face  was  pale,  and 
wore  an  expression  of  alarm. 

The  mother  paused  as  she  cast  a  scrutinizing 
glance  at  her  son,  trying  to  discover  the  cause 
of  this   mysterious   terror,   which   seemed    mo- 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


T99 


mently  to  increase.  But  as  she  watched,  the 
strained  expression  on  the  sleeper's  face  grew 
more  intense.  Suddenly  she  became  aware  of  an 
almost  imperceptible  movement  above  the  bed. 
A  sunbeam  was  shining  on  the  wall  over  the 
head  of  the  sleeper,  and  as  it  glided  downward 
its  vibrations  grew  more  and  more  rapid.  This 
brilliant  ray  of  light  was  stealing  its  way  to  the 
half-open  eyes,  and  the  nearer  it  came  the 
greater  grew  the  restlessness  of  the  sleeper. 
Anna  Michailovna  remained  motionless,  as  if  gaz- 
ing at  a  nightmare ;  she  could  not  turn  her  eyes 
from  the  golden  beam,  which  was  drawing 
slowly  but  perceptibly  nearer  and  nearer  to  her 
son's  pale  face,  which  had  become  almost  rigid 
under  the  prolonged  strain.  The  yellow  light 
had  now  begun  to  play  over  the  hair  and  fore- 
head of  the  youth.  Instinctively  the  mother 
leaned  forward  to  shield  him,  but  her  feet  re- 
fused to  move,  as  if  she  too  were  under  some 
mesmeric  influence.  Meanwhile  the  sleeper 
raised  his  eyelids,  and  the  sunbeam  sparkled  on 


200  THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

his  motionless  eye-balls.  His  head,  outlined 
against  the  pillow,  was  turned  toward  the  light ; 
something  between  a  smile  and  a  sob  quivered 
on  his  lips,  and  again  his  face  lapsed  into  its 
former  rigidity. 

At  last,  by  a  supreme  effort  of  will,  the 
mother  overcame  the  torpor  that  had  crept 
over  her,  and  going  up  to  the  bed,  placed 
her  hand  on  her  son's  head.  He  started  and 
awoke. 

"  Is  that  you,  mamma?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  it  is  I." 

He  rose  on  his  elbow.  It  was  as  if  his 
consciousness  were  still  obscured  by  a  sort  of 
haze.  The  next  moment  he  said :  "  I  was 
dreaming  again.  I  often  dream  now;  but  I 
can  remember  nothing." 

III. 

More  than  a  year  passed  thus ;  periods  of 
gloom  alternating  in  the  young  man's  nature 
with   a  nervous   irritability ;    and   at   the   same 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  20I 


time  his  senses,  especially  that  of  hearing,  grew 
more  and  more  acute.     That  his  entire  organ- 
ism  was   susceptible   to   the   light  was   evident 
even  by  night ;  he  always  knew  when  the  moon 
was   shining,   and   would   often   remain    out    of 
doors,  sitting  motionless  and  sad,  when  all  the 
others  in  the  house  were  sleeping, —  giving  him- 
self up  to  the  influence  of  that  dreamy  and  fan- 
tastic light,  his  pale  face  meanwhile  turned  ever 
in  the  direction  of  the  luminous  globe  that  was 
traversing  the  dark- blue  sky,  and  his  eyes  re- 
flecting the  lustre  of  its  cold  rays.     But  when 
the  globe,  growing  larger  and  larger  as  it  drew 
near  the   earth,  became  veiled   by  a   heavy  red 
mist  and  finally  disappeared  below  the  horizon 
line,  the   face  of  the  blind  man  would  soften 
and  grow  calm,  and  he  w^uld  rise  and  go  to 
his  room. 

As  to  his  thoughts  during  these  long  nights, 
it  would  not  be  easy  to  describe  them.  Every 
one  who  has  experienced  the  joys  and  sorrows 
of  self-consciousness  is  familiar  with   the  crisis 


2  02  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

that  occurs  at  a  certain  period  of  life,  when  a 
man,  still  pausing  on  the  threshold  strives  to 
define  to  himself  the  place  he  occupies  in  Na- 
ture, his  object  in  life,  and  his  relations  to  the 
surrounding  world.  This  is,  so  to  speak,  a 
"  dead  point ;  "  and  fortunate  is  the  man  whom 
the  impetus  of  life's  power  carries  through  it 
unharmed.  In  Peter's  case  this  crisis  was  seri- 
ously complicated.  To  the  question,  "  What  is 
the  object  of  one's  life?"  he  added  another: 
"What  is  the  object  of  a  blind  man's  life?" 
Finally,  into  this  travail  of  sad  thoughts  entered 
another  element, —  an  almost  physical  pressure 
of  unsatisfied  desire,  which  re-acted  on  his  dis- 
position ;  he  grew  more  and  more  nervous  and 
irritable,  without  an  apparent  cause. 

*'  I  long  to  see,"  he  said  when  this  mood  had 
so  far  relaxed  that  he  could  speak  of  it  with 
Evelyn,  —  "I  long  to  see,  and  I  cannot  over- 
come this  desire.  Could  I  but  once,  even 
in  a  dream,  see  heaven  and  earth  and  the 
bright  sunlight,  and  remember  it  all,  —  could  I 


THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN. 


203 


but  thus  see  my  father  and  mother,  you  and 
Uncle  Maxim,  —  I  should  be  satisfied,  and 
never  be  distressed  again." 

And  he  persistently  clung  to  that  idea.  When 
alone  he  would  take  up  different  objects,  feel  of 
them  with  unusual  attention,  and  then  putting 
them  aside  try  to  recall  their  familiar  outlines. 
In  the  same  way  he  studied  the  difference  be- 
tween bright-colored  surfaces,  which  the  ab- 
normally keen  perceptions  of  his  nervous  system 
enabled  him  to  distinguish  quite  readily  by  the 
touch.  But  all  this  simply  conveyed  to  Peter's 
mind  information  in  regard  to  his  own  relations 
to  things,  without  giving  him  a  clearly  defined 
idea  of  their  intrinsic  properties.  He  could 
distinguish  the  difference  between  day  and  night 
from  the  fact  that  the  sunbeams,  in  some  mys- 
terious way,  penetrated  his  brain,  irritating  still 
more  keenly  his  agonizing  queries. 


204  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

IV. 

Peter  had  lost  all  interest  in  the  books  that 
Maxim  used  to  read  aloud  to  him,  and  nothing 
ever  arrested  his  attention  now,  unless  it  bore 
directly  or  indirectly  upon  his  own  affairs. 
Once  he  interrupted  the  reading  to  ask,  — 

"  Red  ringing  ;  carmine  ringing,  —  what  does 
that  mean?     Can  one  see  colors  in  tones?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Maxim  ;  "  but  some  sounds 
make  an  impression  analogous  to  that  of  colors. 
I  am  not  sure  that  I  shall  be  doing  right,  or 
even  if  I  shall  succeed  in  explaining  this  analogy 
to  you  so  that  you  will  be  able  to  understand  it ; 
but  I  have  often  thought  of  it  myself,  and  this  is 
the  way  it  appears  to  me  :  Whenever  I  look  up- 
on a  bright  red  surface  of  any  considerable 
dimensions,  it  produces  on  me  the  impression 
of  something  flexible  and  quivering.  It  seems 
as  if  this  red  surface  were  changing  every  in- 
stant ;  rising  from  a  substratum  of  a  deeper 
color,  it  throbs,  so  to  speak,  with  swift  pulsa- 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


205 


tions  of  a  lighter  shade,  making  a  most  vivid  im- 
pression on  the  eyes.  That  may  be  the  reason 
why  a  certain  kind  of  ringing  is  called  red." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  wait  a  moment,"  said  Peter, 
quickly  opening  the  piano  ;  and  with  practised 
hand  he  struck  the  key-board  in  imitation  of 
the  holiday  bell-ringing.  The  illusion  was  un- 
usually perfect.  A  chord  in  the  middle  regis- 
ter served  as  a  background,  while  the  clearer 
high  notes  rose  over  it  as  though  leaping  and 
bounding  through  the  air. 

"Is  that  it?"  asked  the  blind  man. 

"  Yes,  that  is  like  it ;  and  I  know  persons 
who  are  as  unpleasantly  affected  by  those  sounds 
as  I  myself  am  affected  by  the  color.  I  believe 
the  expression  '  carmine  ringing '  refers  to  post- 
bells.  After  a  bell  has  been  ringing  for  a  long 
time  it  grows  monotonous,  -^  the  sound  be- 
comes deeper,  softer,  and  more  uniform,  al- 
though it  is  still  as  distinct  as  ever.  The  same 
effect  may  be  obtained  by  a  skilful  selection  of 
the  different  tones." 


2 об  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

"Now,  listen,"  said  Peter;  and  under  his 
fingers  the  piano  rang  out  like  the  spasmodic 
peals  of  a  post-bell. 

"  No,  that  is  not  the  way,"  said  Maxim. 
"You  must  play  more  softly." 

"Ah,  yes,  I  remember  !  " 

And  now  the  instrument  sent  forth  tones, 
low,  rhythmical,  and  sad,  like  the  music  of  a 
"  set  of  bells  "  under  the  duga  of  a  Russian 
troika,  receding  along  the  dusty  road  in  the 
dim  vista  of  evening,  —  a  sound  low  and  mo- 
notonous, growing  softer  and  softer,  until  the 
last  notes  are  lost  amid  the  silence  of  the 
quiet  fields. 

"  Ah,  now  you  have  it  !  You  have  caught 
the  idea,"  said  Maxim.  "  Our  language  pos- 
sesses certain  definitions  applicable  to  our  con- 
ceptions of  sound  and  light,  as  well  as  of  touch. 
Thus  we  use  the  word  *  brilliant '  in  regard  to 
tones,  and  also  in  regard  to  colors ;  and  the 
word  '  soft '  belonging  primarily  to  the  sense  of 
touch,  may  also  be  applied  to  colors.    We  even 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  2O7 

say  a  '  warm  '  color,  a  '  cold  '  color.  Of  course 
this  is  only  by  way  of  analogy,  but  they  show 
some  points  of  resemblance.  Some  time  ago, 
while  you  were  still  a  child,  your  mother  tried 
to  explain  colors  to  you  by  means  of  sounds." 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  Why  did  you  forbid  us 
to  continue?  Perhaps  I  might  have  succeeded 
in  understanding." 

"No,"  replied  Maxim,  "that  would  have 
been  impossible,  and  all  your  labor  would  have 
been  in  vain.  You  can  study  an  object  by  it- 
self, as  far  as  its  form  and  the  space  it  occupies 
are  concerned,  —  and  you  seem  able,  in  some 
inscrutable  way,  to  perceive  vague  differences 
in  color  ;  but  in  order  to  gain  any  distinct  ideas 
of  form,  size,  and  color  the  sense  of  sight  is 
absolutely  indispensable.  The  sooner  you  give 
up  your  vain  efforts  the  better  it  will  be  for 
you." 

Peter  made  no  reply ;  but  afterward  he  re- 
turned to  those  musical  experiments  that  had 
been  given  up  in  days  gone  by.     While  he  by 


2o8  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

the  sense  of  touch  would  examine  bits  of  bright- 
colored  cloth,  his  mother  —  her  nerves  strained 
to  their  utmost  tension,  and  trembling  with 
agitation  —  would  try  to  represent  the  color 
by  a  correspondence  in  sound. 

Maxim  no  longer  opposed  these  perform- 
ances ;  he  realized  that  his  influence  was  of  no 
avail  against  that  inward  impulse,  and  felt  that 
it  would  be  better  to  allow  the  blind  man  to 
pursue  his  own  course,  that  in  the  end  he  might 
be  convinced  that  all  his  efforts  to  combine 
these  separate  impressions  were  utterly  in  vain. 
And  that  this  result  might  be  the  sooner  at- 
tained, Maxim  lent  his  own  assistance  to  pro- 
mote the  blind  man's  researches. 

"  Uncle  Maxim,"  said  Peter  to  him  one  day, 
"you  once  described  red  to  me  by  means  of 
words  so  vividly,  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  about 
the  other  colors  that  you  see  in  Nature." 

Maxim  paused  to  consider.  "  That  is  a  very 
difficult  matter ;  but  I  will  try.  I  will  begin  by 
describing  to  you  something  with  which  you  are 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


209 


perfectly  familiar,  and  that  is  blood.  Blood 
courses  through  the  veins,  but  it  cannot  be 
seen.  It  circulates  through  the  body,  diffused 
by  the  heart,  which  is  constantly  throbbing, 
beating,  and  burning  with  sorrow  or  joy.  When 
a  sudden  thought  occurs  to  you,  or  when  from 
dreams  you  awake  trembling  and  weeping,  it 
is  because  the  heart  has  given  a  more  rapid 
impulse  to  the  blood,  and  sent  it  coursing  in 
bright  streams  to  the  brain.  Well,  this  blood 
is  red." 

"  Red,  warm,"  said  the  young  man,  thought- 
fully. 

Maxim  paused  :  was  it  well  for  him  to  go  on 
with  these  fruitless  illustrations?  But  when  he 
saw  the  eagerness  with  which  the  blind  man 
was  hanging  on  his  words,  he  sighed,  and  made 
up  his  mind  to  continue. 

"  First,  I  will  tell  you  about  the  heavens.  If 
you  lift  your  arm  above  your  head,  you  will 
describe  with  it  a  semi-circle  in  space.  In  the 
same   way,  infinitely  far  above   us,   we  behold 

14 


2  10  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

the  vaulted  semi-circle  of  the  hemisphere.  It 
is  blue.  We  call  it  the  sky.  The  sun  crosses 
it  from  east  to  west,  —  that  you  already  know. 
You  can  also  tell  when  the  sky  is  overcast ;  at 
such  times  its  blue  depths  are  hidden  by  the 
confused  and  portentous  outlines  of  dense 
masses  of  clouds.  You  always  perceive  the 
approach  of  a  threatening  storm-cloud  —  " 

"Yes,  I  am  conscious  of  an  influence  that 
agitates  the  soul." 

"  You  are  right.  A  blue  sky  is  the  symbol 
of  serene  and  lasting  happiness.  We  watch  for 
the  return  of  the  dark-blue  sky.  The  tempest 
will  pass  over,  while  the  sky  above  remains  ever 
the  same ;  knowing  this,  we  can  wait  patiently 
for  the  passage  of  the  storm.  The  sky  then  is 
blue ;  and  the  sea  when  it  is  calm  is  of  the 
same  color.  Your  mother  has  blue  eyes,  and 
Evelyn's  eyes  are  also  blue." 

"  Like  the  sky,"  murmured  the  blind  man, 
tenderly. 

"  Blue    eyes    are    said    to    be    the    token    of 


THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN.  21  I 


a  pure  soul.  Now  I  will  tell  you  about  the 
earth.  A  little  while  ago  it  was  spring;  now 
the  summer  has  come,  and  the  surface  of  the 
ground  is  nearly  all  covered  with  green  grass. 
The  earth  is  black ;  and  in  the  early  spring  the 
trunks  and  branches  of  the  trees  look  black  too, 
and  moist ;  but  no  sooner  are  these  dark  sur- 
faces warmed  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  than  they 
send  forth  green  grass  and  leaves.  Vegetation 
requires  light  and  warmth ;  but  the  amount 
must  not  be  excessive.  The  reason  why  all 
that  is  green  is  so  grateful  to  the  eye,  is 
that  it  seems  like  the  union  of  warmth  and 
cool  moisture ;  it  arouses  sensations  of  calm 
contentment  and  health,  but  not  those  of  pas- 
sion, or  what  the  world  calls  happiness.  Do 
you  understand?  " 

"  No,  it  is  not  quite  clear.     But  please   go 


on." 


"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  can  make  that 
clearer ;  but  I  will  tell  you  more.  The  summer 
grows  hotter  and  brighter  as  it  goes  on.     All 


212  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

vegetation  seems  to  be  oppressed  with  its  own 
vitality ;  the  leaves  droop,  and  if  the  heat  of 
the  sun  is  not  cooled  by  the  refreshing  rain,  the 
green  vegetation  grows  utterly  parched  and 
withers  away.  But  with  the  approach  of 
autumn,  the  juicy  fruit  begins  to  ripen  among 
the  brown  and  faded  leaves,  reddening  most 
on  .the  side  next  the  sun,  as  if  all  the  intensity 
and  passion  of  vegetable  nature  were  concen- 
trated therein.  You  see  that  even  here  red  is 
as  ever  the  symbol  of  passion.  It  is  the  color 
of  luxury  and  delight ;  the  color  of  sin,  anger, 
and  madness ;  the  emblem  of  unforgiving  ven- 
geance.—      But  you  fail  to  follow  me  !  " 

"  Never  mind  ;  go  on,  go  on  !  " 

"  The  autumn  comes.  The  fruit  has  grown 
heavy;  it  drops  and  falls  to  the  ground,  —  it 
dies ;  but  the  seed  still  lives,  —  and  therein  lies 
the  germ  of  a  '  possibility '  of  some  future 
plant,  with  its  luxuriant  foliage  and  its  fruit. 
The  seed  falls  on  the  ground ;  and  above  this 
ground  the  cold  sun  hangs  low,  the  cold  wind 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  2  I 


sweeps  over  it,  the  cold  clouds  float  overhead. 
So  life  and  the  passions  die  slowly,  impercepti- 
bly.     Day   by    day  the   blackness   of  the   soil 
shows  more  and  more  plainly  through  the  green 
grass,  until    at    last  the    day  comes   when  the 
snowflakes  fall  by  millions  and  cover  the  ground, 
humble  and  sorrowful  in  its  widowhood,  with  a 
mantle  of  one  uniform  color,  —  cold,  and  white. 
The   cold   snow,   the   clouds    that   float   in   the 
inaccessible  heights  above  our  heads,  the  grand 
and  sterile  mountain-peaks,  all  are   white.     It 
is  the  emblem  of  a  passionless  nature,  of  the 
cold    purity    of    holiness,    and    of    the    future 
spiritual  life.     As  to  black  —  " 

"  I  know,"  interrupted  the  blind  man,  "  that 
signifies  silence  and  quiescence.     It  is  night." 
'•'Yes;   and  therefore  the  emblem  of  death." 
Peter  shuddered,   and   said   in   a  low   tone  : 
"  Yes,  —  as  you  say  yourself,  —  of  death.    And 
for  me  black  is  the  prevailing  color  !  " 

''You    are    wrong    to    say    that,"    rejoined 
Maxim  unhesitatingly,  "  when  you  have  access 


214  '^HE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

to  all  the  pleasures  of  sound,  warmth  and 
movement." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  thoughtfully, 
''  that  is  true.  Sounds  also  have  their  colors ; 
and  I  have  learned  to  know  the  red  tones,  the 
green  and  the  majestic  white  ones,  that  soar 
aloft  in  inaccessible  heights.  But  those  near- 
est akin  to  me  are  the  dark  tones  of  grief, 
which  reverberate  close  to  the  earth.  I  never 
rejoice  when  I  play,  —  I  weep." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,"  said  Maxim  earnestly, 
"  of  one  gift  which  you  fail  to  appreciate  at  its 
proper  value,  —  one  that  has  been  bestowed 
upon  you  with  a  generosity  rarely  found  among 
mortals.  We  have  already  spoken  of  light, 
warmth,  and  sound.  But  you  know  still  another 
joy,  —  you  are  surrounded  by  love.  You  take 
little  heed  of  this,  and  the  reason  of  your  suffer- 
ing may  be  ascribed  to  an  egotistic  cherishing 
of  your  own  woes." 

"Yes,"  exclaimed  Peter,  passionately,  "I 
cherish    them    against    my   will !      Where    can 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


215 


I  hide  from  them,  when  they  are  with  me 
wherever  I  go?  " 

"  Could  you  once  reahze  that  the  world  is 
full  of  sorrow  a  hundredfold  harder  to  bear 
than  yours,  —  sorrows  in  comparison  with  which 
your  life,  rich  in  consolations  and  sympathy, 
may  well  be  called  bliss, — then  —  " 

"  No,  no  !  it  is  not  so  !  "  interrupted  the 
blind  man,  angrily,  in  his  former  tone  of  pas- 
sionate excitement.  "  I  would  change  places 
with  the  lowest  beggar;  gladly  would  I  wear 
his  rags  !     He  sees  !  " 

"  Very  well,"  said  Maxim,  coldly,  ^^  I  will 
prove  to  you  that  you  are  mistaken." 


V. 

In  a  small  town,  sixty  versts  from  the  estate 
of  the  Popelski,  stands  a  miraculous  Roman 
Catholic  image.  Persons  versed  in  such  matters 
could  detail  accurate  accounts  of  its  miraculous 
power,  and  all  who  make  a  pilgrimage  to  visit  it 


2l6  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

on  its  holiday  receive  "  twenty  days  absolution." 
Therefore  every  year,  on  a  certain  day  in  the 
fall,  the  little  town  is  so  crowded  that  it  can 
hardly  be  recognized.  On  the  occasion  of  the 
anniversary,  the  old  chapel  is  decorated  with 
flowers  and  foliage ;  the  merry  pealing  of  the 
bells  rings  through  the  air,  the  carriages  of  the 
Pans  roll  past ;  the  town  is  filled  with  worship- 
pers, bivouacking  in  the  streets  and  squares 
and  even  in  the  neighboring  fields.  Nor  are 
Catholics  the  only  visitors.     The  reputation  of 

the  N image  has  spread  far  and  wide,  and 

the  sick  and  afflicted  Orthodox,  particularly 
those  from  the  cities,  come  also  to  visit  it. 

On  this  particular  holiday  of  which  we  would 
now  speak,  the  road  on  both  sides  of  the 
chapel  was  hned  with  a  many- colored  procession 
of  human  beings.  One  viewing  this  spectacle 
from  the  summit  of  any  of  the  low  hills  en- 
circling the  place  might  have  imagined  that 
some  gigantic  serpent  had  stretched  itself  out 
over  the   road   near  the  chapel,  and  lay  there 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


217 


motionless,  save  when  from  time  to  time  it 
lifted  its  many-colored  scales.  On  both  sides 
of  the  road,  lined  with  two  far-reaching  rows  of 
men  and  women,  stood  a  whole  regiment  of 
beggars  in  a  line,  stretching  their  hands  for 
alms. 

Maxim  on  his  crutches,  and  Peter  beside 
him  leaning  on  Joachim's  arm,  moved  slowly 
along  the  street.  Having  passed  the  noisiest 
and  most  crowded  spot,  they  came  to  the  road 
where  it  entered  the  field.  The  hum  of  the 
many-voiced  crowd,  the  cries  of  the  Jewish 
tradesmen,  the  noise  of  the  carriages,  —  all  that 
vast  rumbling  as  of  mighty  waves,  mingled  into 
one  continuous  surging  volume  of  sound,  they 
had  left  behind  them.  But  even  here  where 
the  crowd  had  diminished,  they  could  still  hear 
the  tramp  of  the  foot-passengers  and  the  hum 
of  the  wheels  and  human  voices.  A  carriage- 
train  of  teamsters  was  coming  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  fields,  and  creaking  heavily,  turned 
into  the  nearest  cross  street. 


2l8  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

Peter  listened  absent-mindedly  to  this  noisy 
life,  wondering  why  Maxim  had  brought  him 
there  on  such  a  day.  Although  Pan  Popelski 
was  a  Catholic  himself,  the  child  had  been 
baptized  in  the  mother's  church  by  an  Orthodox 
priest,  and  this  was  no  holiday  of  his.  Never- 
theless he  obediently  followed  Maxim,  once  in 
a  while  pulling  his  overcoat  together,  for  it  was 
chilly  weather ;  and  thus  he  walked  along,  his 
mind  a  prey  to  melancholy  thoughts.  Suddenly 
in  the  midst  of  his  absorption,  Peter's  attention 
was  so  violently  arrested  that  he  shuddered  as 
he  paused.  The  last  houses  of  the  city  build- 
ings ended  here,  and  the  wide  thoroughfare 
now  lay  between  fences  and  empty  lots.  Just 
where  it  entered  the  fields,  some  pious  hands 
had  erected  a  stone  post,  with  an  icon  and  a 
lantern ;  the  latter,  which  was  never  lighted, 
now  hung  creaking  in  the  wind.  At  the  very 
foot  of  the  post  crouched  a  group  of  blind 
beggars,  who  had  been  crowded  from  the  de- 
sirable   places    by    their    more    fortunate   com- 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


219 


petitors.  They  sat  there  holding  wooden  cups, 
and  some  of  them  from  time  to  time  set  up  a 
heart-rending  wail :  — 

"  Give  to  the  blind  !  —  for  Christ's  sake  !  " 
It  was  a  cold  day,  and  since  early  morning 
these  beggars  had  been  exposed  to  the  cold 
wind  that  blew  in  gusts  from  the  field.  The 
crowd  was  so  great  that  they  could  not  keep 
themselves  warm  by  exercise,  and  as  by  turns 
they  drawled  their  mournful  lamentation,  the 
plaintive  note  of  physical  suffering  and  of  utter 
helplessness  could  plainly  be  discerned.  The 
first  words  were  quite  distinct,  but  they  were 
soon  lost  in  a  mournful  wail,  expiring  in  a  shud- 
der as  of  one  perishing  from  the  cold.  And 
yet  the  last  low  notes  of  the  song,  almost  lost 
in  the  midst  of  the  noisy  street,  on  reaching 
the  human  ear  struck  it  with  a  sense  of  the 
hopelessness  of  the  enormous  suffering  they 
expressed.  "    ' 

''What   is   that?"    exclaimed   Peter,    seizing 
his    uncle    suddenly    by    the  arm.       His    face 


2  20  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN 

changed,  as  though  this  moan  were  the  em- 
bodied image  of  some  ghost  that  suddenly  rose 
before  him. 

''That?"  repeated  Maxim,  indifferently- 
"  They  are  only  blind  beggars, —  blind  like  your- 
self, and  somewhat  cold  besides.  They  would 
like  to  go  home,  but  they  are  hungry.  You 
have  some  money  in  your  pocket,  have  you 
not?     Throw  them  a  five-copeck  piece." 

Peter,  who  in  his  anguish  had  rushed  ahead, 
suddenly  stopped.  He  took  out  his  purse,  and 
instinctively  turning  away  that  he  might  not 
hear  the  mournful  strains  repeated,  held  it  out 
to  Maxim,  saying, — 

"  Give  them  this  !  Give  them  all  you  have 
with  you, —  only  let  us  go  away  !  For  mercy's 
sake,  let  us  go  home  as  quickly  as  possible  !  I 
cannot,  I  cannot  bear  to  hear  it !  " 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  221 

VI. 

On  the  following  day  Peter  was  lying  in  his 
room  prostrated  with  a  nervous  fever.  He  lay 
tossing  on  his  bed,  with  a  look  of  agony  on  his 
face,  as  if  he  heard  some  sound  from  which  he 
was  struggling  to  escape.  The  old  local  doctor 
attributed  this  illness  to  a  cold,  but  Maxim  well 
knew  its  real  cause.  It  was  a  severe  attack, 
and  at  the  time  of  the  crisis  the  sick  man  lay 
motionless  for  several  days ;  but  youth  came 
off  victorious  in  the  end. 

One  pleasant  autumn  morning  a  bright  sun- 
beam crept  in  at  the  window  and  rested  near 
the  invalid's  head.  Anna  Michailovna  turning 
to  Evelyn  said,  "  Please  draw  the  shade.  I 
dread  that  light." 

Rising  in  obedience  to  her  request,  the  girl 
was  arrested  by  the  unexpected  sound  of  the 
blind  man's  voice  :  — 

"  Never  mind,  please.     Let  it  be  as  it  is." 

Both  women  leaned  over  him  with  rapture  : 


222  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

"  Do  you  know  me?  "  asked  the  mother. 

''  Yes,"  repHed  the  invalid ;  then  paused,  as 
though  trying  to  recall  some  memory  of  the 
past.  "Ah,  yes!"  he  said  softly.  "How 
dreadful  it  was  !  " 

Evelyn  laid  her  hand  on  his  lips.  "  Don't, 
don't !     You  must  not  talk  ;  it  is  bad  for  you." 

Pressing  the  hand  to  his  lips  Peter  covered  it 
with  kisses.  Tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  He 
wept  long  and  freely,  and  seemed  to  gain  relief. 
"  I  shall  never  forget  your  lesson,"  he  said, 
turning  his  face  toward  Maxim,  who  entered 
at  that  moment.  "  I  thank  you.  You  have 
helped  me  to  realize  my  own  happiness,  by 
making  me  acquainted  with  the  woes  of 
others.  God  grant  that  I  may  never  forget  the 
lesson  !  " 

The  disease  once  conquered,  the  youthful 
constitution  made  short  work  of  recovery.  In 
two  weeks  Peter  was  again  on  his  feet.  A 
great  change  had  taken  place  in  him.  The 
serious  shock  to  his  nerves  was  succeeded  by  a 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  223 


pensive  but  calm  and  gentle  sadness ;  his  very 
features  were  changed,  having  lost  all  trace  of 
the  old  mental  suffering. 

Maxim  feared  lest  this  might  prove  but  a 
phase,  occasioned  by  the  depression  of  the  ner- 
vous system.  But  months  went  by,  and  still 
the  blind  man's  mood  showed  no  sign  of 
change. 

The  reahzation  of  one's  own  misfortunes 
sometimes  paralyzes  the  energy,  and  plunges 
the  soul  into  a  state  of  passive  endurance ; 
while  the  knowledge  of  the  sorrows  of  others 
will,  on  the  contrary,  often  rouse  one  to  ener- 
getic action,  and  uplifting  the  whole  nature 
stimulate  mental  activity,  and  lead  one  to  seek 
opportunities  for  showing  sympathy. 

A  longing  to  relieve  human  misery  had  now 
risen  in  Peter's  heart,  supplanting  his  former 
vain  endeavor  to  escape  from  personal  grief. 
He  had  as  yet  no  clear  idea  as  to  the  ways  and 
means,  and  had  but  slender  confidence  in  his 
own  power ;  yet  he  was  inspired  by  hope. 


л^^^ 


:^^^>=^ 


INTUITION 


улЧ°  When  Evelyn  announced  to 
the  old  Yaskulskis  her  firm  intention  of  marry- 
ing the  blind  man,  the  old  mother  wept ;  but 
the  father,  after  saying  a  prayer  to  the  images, 
declared  that  it  was  manifestly  the  will  of  God. 
In  due  course  of  time,  therefore,  the  wedding 
was  celebrated. 

Now  began  a  new  and  happy  life  for  Peter ; 
and  yet  it  made  no  great  change  in  him.  In 
his  happiest  moments  there  was  a  shade  of  sad- 


2  28  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

ness  ill  his  smile,  as  if  he  felt  the  insecurity  of 
his  happiness.  When  he  was  told  that  he  was 
about  to  become  a  father,  he  received  the  news 
with  alarm.  Still  his  present  life,  absorbed  as 
it  was  in  anxiety  for  his  wife  and  future  child, 
left  him  no  time  for  brooding  over  the  inevi- 
table. Now  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  these 
cares  the  memory  of  that  pitiful  wail  of  the 
blind  men  would  rise  in  his  mind  and  wring  his 
heart  with  pity  and  compassion,  thereby  divert- 
ing his  thoughts  into  a  different  channel. 

The  blind  man  had  also  lost  to  a  certain 
extent  his  extreme  sensitiveness  to  the  outward 
impressions  made  by  light,  and  his  mental 
activity  was  proportionately  diminished.  The 
turbulent  organic  force  within  him  lay  for  the 
moment  dormant,  with  no  conscious  effort  of 
will  on  his  part  to  rouse  it  into  action,  or  to 
combine  his  manifold  sensations  into  one  con- 
sistent whole.  But  who  can  tell?  —  this  interior 
calmness  may  have  served  to  promote  the  work 
that   was   unconsciously   to   himself   going   on 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN.  229 

within  him ;  it  may  have  facilitated  the  union 
of  those  vague  sensations  of  light  with  his 
logical  thoughts  on  the  subject,  and  the  analo- 
gies between  light  and  sound.  We  know  that 
in  dreams  the  mind  often  creates  images  and 
ideas  which  it  would  be  totally  unable  to  pro- 
duce by  the  agency  of  the  will. 


II. 

In  the  very  same  room  where  Peter  was 
born,  no  sound  could  be  heard  save  the  wailing 
cry  of  an  infant.  A  few  days  had  passed  since 
its  birth,  and  Evelyn  was  rapidly  recovering. 
But  Peter  still  seemed  depressed,  as  though 
weighed  down  by  the  presentiment  of  some 
impending  misfortune. 

The  doctor  taking  the  child  in  his  arms 
carried  him  to  the  window.  Quickly  drawing 
aside  the  curtain  and  admitting  a  bright  sun- 
beam into  the  room,  he  took  his  instruments 
and  bent  at  once  over  the  boy.     Peter  was  also 


230  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

in  the  room,  apathetic  and  depressed,  with  his 
head  drooping  low.  He  seemed  to  attach  no 
importance  whatever  to  the  investigations  of  the 
doctor;  his  bearing  was  that  of  one  Avho  feeis 
quite  sure  of  the  result. 

"The  child  must  be  bhnd,"  he  kept  repeat- 
ing. "  Better  for  it,  too,  had  it  never  been 
born." 

The  young  doctor  made  no  reply,  but  con- 
tinued his  observations  in  silence.  At  last 
he  laid  aside  the  ophthalmoscope,  and  his 
calm,  encouraging  voice  echoed  through 
the  room :  "  The  pupil  contracts ;  the  child 
sees  1 " 

Peter  started,  and  rose  instantly  to  his  feet. 
But  although  the  act  gave  proof  that  he  heard 
the  doctor's  words,  the  expression  of  his  face 
showed  no  comprehension  of  their  significance. 
Resting  his  trembling  hands  upon  the  window- 
seat,  and  with  his  pale  face  and  set  features 
uplifted,  he  looked  like  one  petrified.  Until 
the  present  moment  he  had  been  in  a  state  of 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  23 1 


unusual  excitement,  apparently  unconscious  of 
himself,  and  yet  every  nerve  quivering  witli 
expectation.  The  darkness  that  surrounded 
him  was  an  actual  object,  which  he  realized  in 
all  its  immensity  as  something  apart  from  him- 
self, enveloping  him  as  it  were,  while  he  strove 
to  gain  by  an  effort  of  imagination  some  ade- 
quate idea  of  its  relation  to  himself.  He  threw 
himself  before  it  as  if  he  would  shield  his  child 
from  that  illimitable  tossing  sea  of  impenetrable 
darkness. 

Such  had  been  Peter's  state  of  mind  while 
the  doctor  was  silently  carrying  on  his  prepara- 
tions. He  had  wavered  between  hope  and  fear ; 
but  now  the  latter,  rising  to  its  highest  pitch, 
had  won  entire  control  of  his  excited  nerves, 
while  hope  withdrew  to  the  innermost  recesses 
of  his  heart.  Then  came  the  words,  "The 
child  sees  !  "  and  his  feelings  underwent  a 
sudden  transformation ;  his  fears  vanished,  and 
assurance  took  the  place  of  hope,  illuminating 
the  inner  world  of  imagination    in   which  the 


232  THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

blind  man  dwelt.  Like  a  stroke  of  lightning  it 
burst  upon  the  darkness  of  his  soul,  effecting  a 
complete  revolution.  Now  he  knew  the  mean- 
ing of  the  words,  ''  sound  possessing  the  attri- 
bute of  light."  The  doctor's  words  were  like  a 
pillar  of  fire  in  his  brain  ;  it  was  as  if  an  electric 
spark  had  suddenly  kindled  in  the  secret  re- 
cesses of  his  soul.  Everything  vibrated  within 
him,  and  he  himself  quivered,  as  a  tightly  strung 
chord  quivers  under  a  sudden  touch. 

Directly  upon  this  flash,  strange  shapes  rose 
before  those  eyes  blind  from  birth.  Were  these 
rays  of  light,  or  sounds?  He  could  not  tell. 
They  seemed  like  vivified  sounds,  that  had 
taken  the  form  and  the  motion  of  Hght.  They 
were  radiant  as  the  firmament,  and  their  course 
was  as  that  of  the  sun  in  the  heavens  above ; 
waving  to  and  fro,  they  whispered  and  rustled 
like  the  green  steppe,  and  swayed  like  the 
branches  of  the  pensive  beech-trees.  And  all 
the  time  these  branches  were  mysteriously  but 
clearly    outlined    against   the    sky ;    the    steppe 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  233 

Stretched  far,  far  away ;  the  bright  blue  surface 
of  the  river  rippled  musically. 

Some  one  touched  the  blind  man's  hand. 
Yes  !  he  knows,  he  hears,  he  feels,  he  sees  this 
touch  !  Here  again  come  the  ray-sounds,  shap- 
ing themselves  into  visible  images.  From  his 
childhood  he  has  known  that  bright  vision,  so 
dear  to  his  heart,  reproduced  in  his  soul  with 
such  marvellous  fidelity  !  He  hears  his  mother's 
gentle  voice ;  her  tender  blue  eyes  rest  lov- 
ingly and  sadly  upon  his  face,  and  somewhere 
in  the  depths  of  his  heart  the  reflection  of  her 
gaze  faintly  glimmers.  The  silvery  white  hair, 
the  clear,  pure  ringing  tones  of  her  voice,  —  he 
not  only  hears,  he  also  sees  and  feels  that  fondly 
loved,  that  pure  and  gentle  being,  the  embodi- 
ment  of  holy  love  ! 

A  young,  anxious,  and  sympathetic  cry  !  — 
His  heart  beats  with  passionate  excitement. 
Can  it  be  that  he  has  never  seen  her  before,  — 
his  friend,  his  wife,  his  best-beloved?  Behold, 
she  now  hes  before  him,  distinct  and  wonderful ! 


234  THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

Pain,  love,  and  alarm  may  be  seen  upon  her 
face  —  Eyes  blue  like  his  mother's ;  and  in 
her  voice  the  scarlet  tones  of  love,  vivid  and 
intense,  unlike  that  of  a  mother,  —  those  tones 
that  kindled  in  his  heart  the  bright  flame  of 
passion!  She  has  light  "fair"  hair,  —  he 
knew  of  course  it  must  be  so ;  he  felt  it  and 
now  he  sees  it.  He  is  conscious  with  every 
instinct  of  his  bemg  that  she  half  rises  from  her 
bed,  her  eyes  dilating  to  greet  his  rapture. 

And  this? —  A  discord;  the  tapping  of  a 
crutch ;  a  stifled  exclamation  !  He  reaches 
out  his  hands  toward  the  tutor  who  has  devoted 
his  life  to  him.  He  knows  the  keen  glance, 
the  dogged  persistency,  the  energetic  voice,  the 
heavy  and  ungainly  figure  that  seems  to  belong 
to  the  harsh,  abrupt  tones,  —  a  succession  of 
discordant  sounds  against  a  background  of  con- 
trolled emotions  ! 

But  now  again  comes  the  darkness,  sweeping 
once  more  in  waves  across  the  blind  man's 
brain ;    and  this  form   loses   all  distinctness  of 


THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN.  235 

outline,  and  the  other  images  waver  and  mingle 
one  with  the  other,  and  all  that  is  left  glides 
down  the  gigantic  radius  into  utter  darkness  ! 
Thus  intermingling,  wavering,  trembling,  like 
the  vibrations  of  a  slender  wire,  first  high  and 
loud,  then  soft  and  low,  these  image-sounds 
were  hushed  at  last. 

Silence  and  darkness,  with  certain  vague 
object-sounds,  fantastic  of  outline,  yet  still 
striving  to  rise  to  the  surface  !  Peter  could  not 
grasp  their  tones,  forms,  or  colors,  but  some- 
where from  the  depths  he  could  still  hear  the 
resonant  modulations  of  the  scale,  and  seemed  to 
see  the  rows  of  ivory  keys  flashing  in  the  dark- 
ness, as  they  glided  down  into  space.  Suddenly 
the  sounds  began  to  reach  him  in  their  ordinary 
way.  It  was  as  if  he  had  just  waked,  and  bright 
and  joyous  began  to  press  the  hands  of  Maxim 
and  of  his  mother. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  his  mother,  in  alarm. 

"  Nothing  !  I  thought  I  —  saw  you  all.  I 
am  not  sleeping,  am  I?" 


236  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

"And  now?"  she  asked  anxiously.  "Do 
you  remember?     Shall  you  remember?" 

The  blind  man  breathed  a  deep  sigh. 
"  Nothing,"  he  replied  with  an  effort.  "  I  shall 
transmit  it  all  —  I  have  already  transmitted 
It  to  the  child." 

The  blind  man  tottered,  and  fell  fainting  to 
the  floor.  His  face  was  pale,  but  a  gleam  of 
joy  and  satisfaction  still  rested  upon  it. 


A  large  number  of  persons 
had  assembled  in  Kiev  during  the  period  of 
the  Contracts  to  hear  the  musical  improviser. 
He  was  blind  ;  but  marvellous  reports  had 
been  circulated  in  regard  to  his  musical  talent. 
Therefore  the  Contract  hall  was  crowded  ;  and 
a  lame  old  gentleman,  a  relative  of  the  artist, 
had  taken  charge  of  the  proceeds,  —  all  which 
were  to  be  devoted  to  some  charitable  object, 
unknown  to  the  public. 


240  THE  BLIND   MUSICIAN. 

Complete  silence  reigned  in  the  hall  when  a 
young  man,  with  a  pale  face  and  beautiful  large 
eyes,  appeared  on  the  platform.  No  one  would 
have  suspected  his  blindness,  save  for  the  rigid 
expression  of  his  eyes,  and  the  fact  that  he  was 
led  by  a  fair-haired  young  woman,  who  was 
said  to  be  his  wife. 

"  No  wonder  he  produces  such  a  striking 
impression,"  remarked  a  young  man  to  his 
neighbor;  "he  has  an  unusually  dramatic 
countenance." 

Indeed,  the  blind  man's  pale  face,  with  that 
thoughtful  set  look  in  the  eyes,  no  less  than  his 
entire  person,  impressed  the  beholder  as  some- 
thing quite  remarkable ;  and  his  playing  con- 
firmed that  impression. 

A  southern  Russian  audience  generally  loves 
and  appreciates  its  national  airs ;  and  in  this 
instance  even  the  mixed  audience  that  assem- 
bled at  the  Contracts  was  at  once  carried  away 
by  the  burning  torrent  of  melody  which  they 
heard.     The   marvellous   improvisation   evoked 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  24 1 

by  the  fingers  of  the  bhnd  musician  revealed 
his  keen  appreciation  of  the  Nature  so  famihar 
to  them  all,  as  well  as  a  rare  intimacy  with  the 
secret  springs  of  national  melody.  Rich  in 
coloring,  graceful  and  melodious,  it  gushed  forth 
like  a  rippling  stream,  —  rising,  now  into  a  song 
of  triumph,  then  again  lapsing  into  a  plaintive 
and  sympathetic  murmur.  At  times  it  was  as  if 
a  storm  were  thundering  in  the  sky,  echoing 
through  space;  and  the  next  moment  the 
music  changed  to  the  whistling  of  the  wind 
through  the  grass  over  the  mounds  of  the  wild 
steppes,  reviving  vague  dreams  of  the  past. 

When  the  player  ceased,  the  deafening  ap- 
plause of  the  dehghted  audience  filled  the  great 
hall.  The  blind  man  sat  with  drooping  head, 
listening  in  surprise  to  those  unfamiliar  sounds. 
But  when  he  raised  his  hands  and  again  struck 
the  keys,  silence  fell  at  once  upon  the  vast 
hall. 

At  this  moment  Maxim  entered.     He  gazed 

attentively  at  this  crowd,  which  controlled  by 

16 


242  THE  BLIND  MUSICIAN. 

one  emotion  sat  with  burning,  eager  eyes  riveted 
upon  the  blind  man.  As  the  old  man  listened, 
he  dreaded  lest  this  powerful  improvisation, 
now  flowing  so  freely  from  the  musician's  soul, 
might  suddenly  end,  as  it  used  of  old,  in  a 
distressing  and  unsatisfied  question,  —  thus 
opening  a  fresh  wound  in  the  heart  of  his  blind 
pupil.  But  the  sounds  increased  in  volume  and. 
power,  growing  more  and  more  imperious,  as 
they  touched  the  hearts  of  the  sympathetic  and 
expectant  audience.  And  the  longer  Maxim 
listened,  the  stronger  grew  his  assurance  that 
he  recognized  something  familiar  in  the  blind 
man's  playing.  Yes,  it  was  that  noisy  street. 
A  clear,  resonant,  and  buoyant  wave  rolls  dash- 
ing along,  sparkling  and  breaking  up  into  a 
thousand  sounds.  Now  it  rises  and  swells,  now 
it  recedes  with  a  faint,  remote,  but  continuous 
murmur,  —  always  calm,  picturesquely  impas- 
sive, cold  and  indifferent. 

Suddenly    Maxim's    heart    sank  within    him. 
Again  came  the  well-known  wail  from  the  pres- 


THE   BLIND   MUSICIAN.  243 

sure  of  the  musician's  fingers.  It  escaped, 
echoed  through  space,  and  was  lost  in  the  air. 
But  it  was  no  longer  the  moan  of  individual 
sorrow,  the  utterance  of  a  blind  man's  egotisti- 
cal suffering.  Tears  sprang  into  the  old  man's 
eyes,  and  tears  stood  also  in  those  of  his 
neighbors,  while  above  the  picturesque,  im- 
passioned tumult  of  the  street  rose  the  in- 
tensely woful  heart-rending  note  of  lamenta- 
tion. Maxim  recognized  in  it  the  pathetic 
song  of  the  blind,  —  "  Give  to  the  blind  !  — 
for  Christ's  sake  ! "  It  fell  like  a  stroke  of 
lightning  on  the  heads  of  the  assembled  multi- 
tude, and  every  heart  throbbed  in  unison  with 
the   expiring  wail. 

For  some  time  after  the  music  ceased,  the 
audience,  seized  with  horror  at  the  awful  reali- 
ties of  life,  sat  silent  and  motionless. 

The  old  veteran  bowed  his  head.  "  Yes,  he 
sees  at  last.  A  perception  of  the  woes  of  the 
world  has  taken  the  place  of  his  former  blind, 
unquenchable,   selfish   suffering.     He   feels,   he 


244 


THE   BLIND  MUSICIAN. 


sees  j  and  his  hands  are  endowed  with  a  mighty 
power." 

The  old  soldier  bent  his  head  lower  and 
lower.  His  task  was  accomplished;  .his  life 
had  not  been  m  vain.  Those  full  powerful 
tones,  as  they  echoed  through  the  hall,  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  audience,  bore  witness  to 
this  truth. 


This  was  the  debut  of  the  blind  musician. 


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